


Not My Jane!

by Ms_Pimprenelle



Series: Not My Jane! [1]
Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Janus Jane, Self-interested Gardiners, disappointed Elizabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:28:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Pimprenelle/pseuds/Ms_Pimprenelle
Summary: Is Jane Bennet is an ideal elder sister ... or an idealised elder sister? Let's face it, Elizabeth's ability to sketch characters isn't as great as she thinks it it. Poor thing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Pride and Prejudice, chapter 34:**  
  
_"[...] Do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?"_  
  
_As she pronounced these words Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued --_  
  
_"I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other -- of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind.”_  
  
_She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity._  
  
_"Can you deny that you have done it?" she repeated._  
  
_With assumed tranquillity he then replied, "I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success.”_  
  
“However," he went on, "I _do_ deny it had any repercussions on their happiness—except in increasing my friend’s felicity, perhaps. Oh, I can well believe that her hopes might be disappointed, but her heart is faring quite well, I dare say. Misery of the acutest kind? I doubt it.” He now had a look of disgust on his face. Elizabeth was incensed.  
  
“How dare you! How can you say such a thing and be so dismissive of my sister’s feelings!”  
  
They both stood, glaring at each other, neither willing to be the first to look away. After what felt like an eternity but was closer to a dozen seconds, his gaze softened marginally.  
  
“You have no idea, of course.”  
  
She baulked.  
  
“I know _exactly_ how cruel you are—how you like to arrange the lives of the people who surround you, without a care for the desolation you cause. My sister has been heartbroken all winter, and still is!”  
  
He shook his head and sighed.  
  
“Might we sit? Regardless of our situation, I think you should know.”  
  
“Know what?”  
  
Elizabeth was still standing, arms crossed, eyes shooting daggers at him. Darcy gestured for her to sit and, once she had done so, settled in a chair next to hers and spoke again.  
  
“I think this will come as a shock, and I am very sorry to give you pain, but it must be done.”  
  
Elizabeth was looking at him with a pinched look and not a little incredulity.  
  
“Will you please get to the point, sir?”  
  
“Very well. Bingley did not come back to Netherfield because I told him your sister did not love him.”  
  
“How could you!” a distressed Elizabeth interrupted, threatening him with the first thing she could lay her hand on—it happened to be her teaspoon.  
  
“Because she certainly does _not_. Trust me on this.”  
  
“Pardon me? She is my sister, my closest confident, why on Earth would I trust a stranger regarding her feelings? I dare say I know her far better than you may do.” Elizabeth, trembling with rage, summoned all her willpower to put her spoon on the table next to her instead of throwing it at her caller's face.  
  
“I can only conclude that she does not confide in you as much as you confide in her—that there are things she tells your mother that she would not repeat to you.”  
  
“Again, sir, speak plainly,” she hissed.  
  
“I overheard Miss Bennet speaking to her mother, shortly after you and I danced together. Your sister let her know, in no uncertain terms, that she had given some consideration to the thought of dropping Bingley for me in a heartbeat if I wished it.” He had that disgusted look again. “The reason being that there would be more jewels and pin money to be had as my wife. In the end, though, she told your mother that I would be less easily led than my friend. If your sister is mourning a loss, Miss Bennet, it is that of material advantage—nothing else.”  
  
Having said that, he looked at Elizabeth. She appeared even more furious than she had only a while before.  
  
“Jane would _never_ act thus. Not my Jane! If you had told me _Lydia_ had said such a thing, I would be willing to believe you, but—not _Jane_. Why are you slandering her? How _dare_ you!”  
  
No answer came—not that she truly expected one—and she growled: “Get out. _Now_.”  
  
“I will not linger. Again, I am sorry to give you pain, but think about it: why should I lie to you?”  
  
He made a gesture as if he was going to take her hand in his but appeared to think better of it, and continued with a sad smile: “I know how hard it is to believe that someone you love so much can act in a manner so different from the image you have of her.”  
  
After an hesitation and on hearing Elizabeth scoff and mumble something that sounded strangely like _you know, right_ ... he added, “I too have a sister, and last summer I nearly lost her.” He hesitated, and then went on. “It is still hard for me to believe that she would agree to such a plan, and yet, she herself told me that she had been persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement with Mr Wickham.” He spat the last word.  
  
Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she could manage to produce a sound. When she did, her voice was strained.  
  
“Mr Wickham—as in George Wickham, officer in the ——shire Militia?”  
  
“The very same,” Darcy nodded.  
  
“He is _married_?” _Poor Miss King_ , she thought. _He had us all fooled_.  
  
“Heavens, no!” Mr Darcy appeared aghast at the very idea. “I came to visit my sister a few days before the plan was enacted; she could not bear the idea of grieving and offending me and confessed all to me—in some ways, I am more a father to her than a brother. Wickham was rather unhappy to see her thirty thousand pounds going away from him.”  
  
“Oh. _That_ must be the reason for his dislike—not the living he said you refused him.” Elizabeth felt oddly calm, given the state she had been in moments before. She did not think, even for one second, that Mr Darcy would lie about his own sister and suddenly felt rather foolish at the idea that she had been so easily manipulated. Her beliefs were beginning to crumble, and it was at that moment that she recollected that some things had effectively struck her as strange, or at least not exactly right, in Mr Wickham's behaviour. However, she could not yet reflect on it, not while Mr Darcy was still there. It also did not absolve him of his treatment of Jane. She needed to be alone; she feared another headache would arise.  
  
She felt drained from all energy, and repeated her previous entreaty, albeit in a much different fashion.  
  
“Please, go away now.”  
  
He looked at her and, after a moment’s hesitation, stood, bowed to her, and left. As soon as he had gone through the door, Elizabeth flew to her room and collapsed on her bed. She tried to make sense of what she had just heard. She was ready to admit she could have been wrong in the matter of Mr Wickham, but not for a moment could she believe that Jane could behave—dissemble!—in such a way. Yet neither could she dismiss out of hand what Mr Darcy had said. There were reasons enough for him to disparage the Bennets and separate his friend from her sister, so why would he create such an outlandish tale?  
  
Mayhap there had been some kind of misunderstanding. She could not help but smile. That sounded like something Jane would have said. Her smile turned to a frown. What could Mr Darcy have overheard that would lead him to misunderstand Jane so much? She thought about it for some time before sighing, concluding that she could not make sense of any of it—that she would have needed to hear exactly what Mr Darcy heard, supposing he remembered it all, and try to discern how such a dreadful misapprehension did arise. Elizabeth, though she tried to be angry at his interfering without knowing the whole truth, found she could not reproach him for having acted in good faith. That did annoy her quite a lot.  
  
Without having any illusions as to her capacity to sleep, she prepared for bed and willed herself to rest. She wished she could walk in the morning, meet Mr Darcy and ask him for some additional information, but she could not be so forward. He would leave on the morrow, she would go back to her sister; and she hoped she would be able to discover what had happened. But what good could it do, when there was no chance of her meeting Mr Darcy ever again to correct his perception?  
  
  
**One week later, London**  
  
Elizabeth and Maria left Hunsford for London as planned, despite the entreaties of Lady Catherine who would have them staying until June, when she herself was to go to London to visit her acquaintances before they left for the country. The young ladies were to remain in Gracechurch Street for some days, and Mr and Mrs Gardiner had planned they would all attend various events. Elizabeth thought it would be difficult for her to study her sister’s spirits and resolved herself to wait until they were back in Longbourn before observing her. For now, she would enjoy her stay in the capital.  
  
The first of the planned engagements was, on the night that followed their arrival, a private ball that a neighbour of their uncle was giving for his daughter. The girl was a little younger than Elizabeth, but she knew the Bennet sisters well, having met with them each time they visited the Gardiners.  
  
“A ball? How lovely!” Maria exclaimed, clapping her hands, as she was told the news over breakfast.  
  
Elizabeth added cautiously: “But, Aunt, I fear neither Maria nor I have gowns suitable for such an event.”  
  
“I am fairly certain you packed some of your best evening gowns, did you not?” After the girls had nodded, Mrs Gardiner went on. “One of them will do. We had to procure Jane a new dress, as she already wore all those she brought several times, but no one will have seen any of yours yet. Besides, there simply is no time to have new ones made, though if you wish to make a few alterations to an existing gown, it can certainly be done.”  
  
“To the ball we shall go, then,” said Elizabeth with a smile. At least there was no risk that she would become lost in her thoughts during a ball. These past days, once her anger had abated, she had reflected a lot about her acquaintance with Mr Darcy. She regretted having been so harsh—and rude— with him when they last saw each other. She supposed he understood she had been confused by his tale. This was another source of uneasiness. How stupid had she been to believe Mr Wickham! She had vowed not to be hasty when it came to judge people and to remember that charming people could be bad while disagreeable ones could be good. She still refused to believe he was in any way right about Jane, but when she had met with her sister again, the thought that it was more because of a sense of familial loyalty than of factual knowledge had crept in her mind. She had shaken it away but determined to keep an eye on Jane in order to ascertain that the image she had of her sister was reflecting the reality, and that nothing but a misunderstanding was the cause of Mr Darcy’s bad opinion of her.

  
*******

  
In a fancier part of town, the following conversation could be heard between two gentlemen. They were both tall and handsome; one of them was undignifiedly slouched in an armchair with a glass in hand and looked unhappy, the other stood in front of his friend, speaking with determination.  
  
“Now, that is enough, Darcy. You have been in a bad mood for days, barely speaking with anybody—even less than is usual for you. I would swear you were angry with the whole world. This has to change!”  
  
Mr Darcy was about to dismiss him, when he was struck by what was said.  
  
“You think that I am usually silent?”  
  
“Why, of course you are. When have you given yourself the trouble to attend a conversation with a new acquaintance? You do have many good qualities but this is a failure of yours.”  
  
Darcy did not answer. What Sir Nicholas Harcourt said was very close to Elizabeth's admonishment at Rosings. She had said he should practice his conversational skills, had she not? His friend was visibly of the same mind. Maybe he should do so—and he might even forget about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's existence during an entire twenty minutes.  
  
“What do you suggest I do?”  
  
“I am going to a ball tonight. I am welcome to bring any well-behaved friend with me—so you can join me, try to relax a little, speak to the other guests, dance with the ladies ...”  
  
“That may be _your_ usual deportment, but you know very well that if _I_ do so, it will be assumed that I am searching for a wife, and I am not in the mood tonight to bear that kind of scrutiny.”  
  
His friend smirked.  
  
“Have you ever been in such a mood? However, in the place I suggest we go to, the ladies could have no such expectations.”  
  
Darcy frowned.  
  
“Harcourt, I will not take part in anything immoral.”  
  
The baronet rolled his eyes.  
  
“As if I would suggest something like that to _you_. I sometimes mingle with acquaintances who move in less exalted circles; the jeweller I patronise is giving a ball for his daughter. If we go, he will appreciate the compliment of our presence, but given the difference of station between us and the rest of the assistance, nobody will think much of it if we danced with unattached young ladies. You might want to avoid dancing twice with one, but even then, it would be understood that you do not mean much by it. Trust me.”  
  
“Very well—I shall go.”  
  
  
**Same day, same town, early evening**  
  
Miss Lucas was feeling poorly and had stayed behind, bemoaning her misfortune in missing such a party. She consoled herself with the fact she had been for tea at Rosings one more time than her sister's friend.  
  
The Gardiners and their two nieces were in the carriage going to the ball. Elizabeth, who was observing Jane, thought that she could detect some sadness in her; that impression was confirmed when she sighed softly.  
  
“Jane?”  
  
The lady turned toward her sister.  
  
“Are you well?” Elizabeth went on.  
  
“Oh. Yes, I am, thank you Lizzy. It is just ... I once thought that I would attend other kinds of events by that time—not that there is anything wrong with _this_ ball, Aunt!” She hurriedly added. “Amelia is a dear girl and I am happy to attend her ball.  There was one time, however, when I thought my acquaintance with Miss Bingley would have led me to be invited to more fashionable gatherings.”  
  
She smiled.  
  
“I must sound very silly. Forgive me. I have every expectation of enjoying myself tonight.”  
  
Elizabeth knew not how to answer. She did not think that _Miss_ Bingley was the one who was missed, but the way Jane phrased her thoughts … it was as if Mr Bingley was not foremost in her mind either, other than as a means to an end. She scolded herself for thinking so badly of her sister, but another part of her mind entreated her to consider the possibility that Mr Darcy had not misinterpreted what he witnessed, whatever _that_ was. She hoped that the upcoming ball would not be a source of further distress, but of reassurance.  
  
**In the rooms where Miss Brown's ball is held**  
  
On their arrival, the party disposed of their outerwear. The guests were still trickling in; the Gardiners and their nieces had only a few moments to greet their friends before entering the ballroom.  
  
Many relations of Mr Gardiner had been invited and the male, unmarried ones specifically asked him for an introduction to his nieces. More often than not, the young men requested a set from Jane. Elizabeth was overlooked, but she did not mind. She had been happy for the diversion of the dance, but now realised that she was in too reflective a mood to be an agreeable partner and that she would better enjoy the evening from the side. It would also allow her to observe Jane more easily, though she hoped they would speak between dances. The society was varied, and Elizabeth took pleasure in participating now and then in the conversations which were flowing between Mrs Gardiner and the wives of her uncle's business partners.  
  
Soon, she grew weary of standing in the same place and decided to take a turn around the room. Jane was dancing again, with a young man who had been presented to them earlier. The second son of a gentleman, he had inherited fifteen thousand pounds from his grandmother, had contacted Mr Gardiner in order to invest his wealth, and did not need to take a profession. Elizabeth supposed he could have been a suitable match for Jane, had she met him before she gave her heart away. _Or_ , a Darcy-like voice whispered in her mind, _if she had not been hoping for a man of more consequence to take notice of her_. Shaking her head, she went on her way.  
  
The dancing had already begun when Darcy and Harcourt entered the building, and their host was not to be seen for the moment.  
  
“He is certainly seeing how things are doing in the card room. I will have a footman apprise him of our arrival.”  
  
With nothing else to do, Darcy began to pace the floor, mindful of his goal of being amiable, seeking some introductions, and talking with some people, even if he was not fully comfortable. As he was doing so, he nearly knocked down a young lady who was also wandering the room and lifted his arm in order to steady her. Then he looked at her and froze.  
  
“Miss Bennet!”  
  
Of all people, _she_ was here? He did not know whether it was a blessing or a curse. Part of him was elated to see she was still as lovely as ever, while his reason reminded him that the further he was from her, the better.  
  
“Mr Darcy!”  
  
Elizabeth was so surprised she did not know what to say nor what to do. As far as she could tell, Mr Darcy was similarly struck.  
  
_As soon as he regains his bearings, he will turn and leave. If I want to apologise, I must do it now._  
  
“Sir, I ... I am sorry.”  
  
Mr Darcy remained silent and looked intensely at her. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and continued.  
  
“For being so rude towards you when we last saw each other.”  
  
That was not, by a long shot, a very strong apology, but Elizabeth found it hard to utter it at all. Even if she knew she had been wrong, humbling herself in front of the gentleman did not sit well with her. _And to think I accused him of pride when I am guilty of exactly the same fault!_  
  
Mr Darcy was still watching her, and Elizabeth felt as if her nerves were about to fail her. She held to her pride and to the memory that he was likely the cause of Jane’s low spirits to keep her countenance.  
  
“Forgive me, sir. I will not impose on your time any longer.”  
  
She curtsied and turned away, determined to seek her sister or the Gardiners and to beg for an early return home. She did not think she could bear the thought of an evening in the same room as Mr Darcy with any equanimity. She was in a state of great confusion, for his presence reminded her that she still had had no opportunity to understand where his accusations came from. She needed calm, she needed some time to think and some time alone with Jane, and these were not to be found at a ball.  
  
Darcy had been so surprised by Elizabeth's presence that he did not know how to act. Then she spoke, and all his attention was focused on listening to her. Before he had the time to understand what precisely she had said, she was gone. Again. He looked at her moving away in the crowd, and slowly shook his head. Maybe, now that he knew she had believed him, he could get some closure, not think of her as much. But she had not exactly said that, had she? And why did it matter to him?  
  
A cry shook him from his meditations.  
  
“There you are, Darcy!”  
  
He snapped his head in the direction of Harcourt’s voice. His friend was accompanied by a middle-aged man.  
  
“Darcy, let me introduce to you Mr Brown, our host. Mr Brown, this is my good friend Mr Darcy of Pemberley.”  
  
After Darcy thanked him for his invitation, after which they discussed politics. Soon, Mr Brown had to excuse himself to see to his other guests.  
  
Harcourt was looking at his friend with some amusement.  
  
“You may not need as much practice as I thought, after all. I did not think you could converse so easily with someone you just met.”  
  
“I did not think so either but found that it is not as strenuous as I feared it would be,” Darcy answered with a smile.  
  
Sir Nicholas smirked.  
  
“Well then, now I must have you dance.”  
  
“Perhaps I will. Not now, though—but if you are acquainted with her, could you introduce me to our host’s daughter? If she has still a set free, I should like to ask her to dance.”  
  
The current set was coming to an end, and he caught a glimpse of Elizabeth—Miss Elizabeth—hurriedly going to her sister on the other side of the ballroom.

  
*******

  
“Jane! Thank God, you are here.”  
  
“Of course I am here, Lizzy,” said a perplexed Jane. “Where else should I be?”  
  
Elizabeth took her sister's hands and squeezed them. If they had been somewhere private, she would have hugged her.  
  
“Oh, dearest, I just stumbled across Mr Darcy—it is so embarrassing—please, would you mind if we went home? We have stayed long enough for Amelia not to feel slighted, and I shall plead that I have a headache—I _shall_ have one, if I fret any longer.”  
  
Elizabeth had no doubt of what Jane's answer would be. If she was still pining for Mr Bingley, she would not find much pleasure in the gathering, and would not be unhappy to go home before the evening was over.  
  
However, when she looked up, she saw the strangest exp ****ression on her sister's face. Jane appeared resolved and almost stern.


	2. Chapter 2

“Lizzy!” Jane gently scolded. “ _Now_ is not the time to go. My dance card is full and I should not like to neglect any of my partners.”  
  
The Gardiners arrived just in time to hear Jane's declaration.  
  
“Of course you will not let down any of these young men,” Mrs Gardiner exclaimed. “Why on earth would you do such a thing?”  
  
Jane sent her sister a mildly annoyed look and squeezed her hand.  
  
“Lizzy has seen someone she would rather avoid, Aunt, and wishes to go home.”  
  
“Nonsense! Lizzy, if you wish to hide in a corner, you may, but you will not begrudge Jane her dances. Mr Faulkner and Mr Matthews have even both asked for a second dance, and I hope to have them on my doorstep tomorrow. Jane has already lost a suitor; I shall do all that is in my power to keep these young men around for the time being. Leaving now would send them a very bad signal. We _will_ stay.”  
  
“I expected better from you, Lizzy,” added her uncle. “You shall not spoil Jane's evening with your silliness. I wonder whether you are jealous, since so many young people have asked her for a dance, while you have yet to stand for a set.”  
  
Elizabeth knew not how to answer. She regretted not having shared her tale with Jane—dear Jane would have understood her situation, wouldn't she? After all, she had been supportive when she had refused to marry their cousin, had understood she might be uneasy to visit Charlotte after she had married the man.  
  
Nodding to her aunt and uncle, she sat on a nearby chair and watched her sister as she went through the dance. Jane smiled sweetly to Mr Miller, the son of one of their uncle's business partner. Unbidden, the memory of something Elizabeth had heard earlier in the evening came to her mind. _I wish we could attend events in higher circles_ , Jane had said. Surely, she would not resent her for her refusal, even if an acceptance would have permitted her to attend more fancy events? Or—here Elizabeth shifted uneasily on her chair—meeting Mr Bingley again? If Jane was still sad over his desertion, that could be a possibility. Worse, could Mr Darcy have been right? Elizabeth felt ill at that thought and refused to consider the possibility longer, but the niggling thought that, perhaps, the gentleman deserved another apology did not leave her entirely.  
  
As she watched Jane blushing at something her partner said, she wondered if she knew her sister as well as she thought she did. Had she been wrong about her attachment to Mr Bingley? She felt assured of her general uprightness, but had she heard only what she wished to hear when Jane spoke to her about Mr Bingley? She tried to remember exactly what had been said. Had Jane expressed herself in an ambiguous way? She had described him as an agreeable young man, of that Elizabeth was certain. She _did_ take pleasure in his company. Still, had Elizabeth seen love where there was none? Maybe it was time to put her blinders off and look objectively at the situation. At the very least, she owed Mr Darcy that. Come to think of it, she owed it to herself.  
  
This evening, Jane seemed far from being in misery, be it of the acutest kind or not. She had been sad when the Netherfield party went away, and when, after she had visited Miss Bingley, it had been clear that the lady wished to sever the connection. Did Jane mourn the man, however, or the place in society he could have offered her? When Mrs Gardiner had referred to two of her partners as suitors, Jane had not seemed displeased—quite the reverse.  
  
Elizabeth suddenly felt rather sad, and was at a loss to understand why, until she caught a glimpse of Mr Darcy across the room. _I must apologise again—tell him that I am not so certain that I know of my sister's feelings. That maybe his interference was not so ill-advised ... maybe he did not even misunderstand anything_. This last possibility was still too dreadful to be considered seriously. Jane might not have been in love with Mr Bingley while trying to attach him, but she would not be so cold when trying to determine who, of him or his friend, was the better catch.  
  
Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, Mr Darcy had been watching her since they parted, his goal of speaking with strangers or requesting a dance from Amelia Brown momentarily forgotten. He had been witness to her embarrassment, her hushed discussion with her sister, the scolding faces of her relatives, her following uneasiness. When she appeared to plunge into contemplative sadness, he could not bear it anymore and made his way to her.  
  
“Miss Bennet?”  
  
She glanced up and felt tears welling up in her eyes.  
  
“Mr Darcy, I ...”  
  
_Well, this is not very welcoming_. Darcy steeled himself and spoke coldly.  
  
“Please, forgive me, I thought you were in need of some assistance. If my presence is uncomfortable, I shall not importune you—I shall even leave the ball if you wish.”  
  
“No!”  
  
Elizabeth had answered even before he could bow. She stood and looked at him earnestly.  
  
“Do not leave on my account, sir. I do not wish for you to go—I am indeed uncomfortable, but it is not _your_ doing, only mine. I feel that I cannot be certain of anything anymore. You might have been right after all. I cannot make sense of that—I am sorry I ever doubted you.”  
  
At this he seemed puzzled, until, following Elizabeth's gaze which had drifted toward the dancers as she spoke, he saw Jane Bennet smiling brightly at her partner, which, as reserved as she was, could not be understood as anything else but flirting. His eyes widened.  
  
“What do you mean exactly?”  
  
“While I am convinced that you must have misunderstood the situation to some degree, that Jane must have been telling my mother what she wanted to hear in order to obtain peace, I cannot say whether my sister’s heart was touched or not by your friend, sir. Not anymore.” Elizabeth took a shaky breath. “And now, I do not know if I can ever trust my judgement again. I have been so often wrong these last months ... I am so very sorry, Mr Darcy. Please, forgive me.”  
  
“Forgive you? What do you ask forgiveness for?”  
  
“Hurling accusations in your face. Misjudging you. I was quick to call you vain when this was one of my very faults—you wounded my vanity before even meeting me, and I repaid you with pettiness. I was so determined to dislike you that I did not even try to _know_ you—it was unfair of me.”  
  
Darcy was stunned. At first he thought her comment about vanity alluded to his proposal, but obviously the event she was thinking of was far earlier in time. _What could I have told that made her so peeved?_ He vaguely remembered that assembly in Meryton. A gathering of people who, for the most part, were without breeding or importance in the world. She had probably been there. He had been in a bad mood, for Bingley, after having hoodwinked him into attending a public assembly, had been badgering him to dance ... with one of the Bennet sisters, he remembered that. Was she the girl he refused to be introduced to? At the same time, he felt strangely thrilled. It took him a few heartbeats to realize he was feeling hopeful. He soon frowned. Elizabeth might regret the way she had acted, she might have, _at last_ , realised what her sister was up to, even if only partially, but that did not mean she had changed her mind about _him_. And even if she had, would it be wise to renew his offer? Had he not decided, not half an hour ago, that he ought to forget Elizabeth Bennet?  
  
He focused on her. She was on the verge of tears, obviously interpreting his silence and exp ****ression as a rebuke, but nonetheless waited for him to take his leave of her rather than flee. His mien softened, and as she raised her eyes, he saw uncertainty in them. _How could I ever forget these eyes?_ He wished he could comfort her, and it was the work of a moment to forget his earlier resolve. He had nothing to lose, everything to gain. Only his pride stood in his way. Had she been defiant or angry, he would have clung to it, but seeing her so miserable made all pride-related matters unimportant. The real question, the one he did not even think about ten days ago, was related to happiness. Could he make Elizabeth happy if she were married to him? He had not truly thought about that when he had proposed.  
  
He now hoped to change her mind regarding him and propose again, but what if he gained her hand without her love? He himself knew he would be able to find happiness in such a marriage, as long as he found a way to make her happy. He would have her care at least, for Elizabeth Bennet was a caring person at heart. When she had berated him at Hunsford, her words had showed she cared for her sister, as undeserving as she was, and even for Bingley. Darcy doubted she would not be able to care for the father of her children. He shook his head to leave that line of reasoning and looked at Elizabeth. She was still waiting for an answer—he had nearly forgotten what she asked. Forgiveness? He smiled, remembering a conversation in the drawing room at Netherfield, long ago.  
  
“My dear Miss Bennet, I find that, where you are concerned, I am incapable of being resentful for very long.”  
  
She was so surprised by this that she was at a loss for words, and he continued softly.  
  
“Will you stay in London for long? I should very much like to call on you, if it is agreeable to you?”  
  
Elizabeth found her voice at least, but coherent speech still eluded her. “I ... you ... what? Why?”  
  
She seemed off balance, and so very young. The defences she usually had around her had been momentarily thrown off.  
  
“I remember you once said you were trying to sketch my character. Would you not like to have an opportunity to do so, now that ...” here he paused to find a phrase she would not find offensive.  
  
“... now that I am not wilfully misunderstanding you anymore?” she continued ruefully.  
  
“Something like that, yes.”  
  
She owed him that. She might not particularly like him—although now that she thought about it, she did not know, she could not define how she felt about him—but she owed it to him to appraise him fairly. It would give her the opportunity to understand how he came to have such a bad opinion of her sister and to redeem Jane in his eyes. And maybe this could give them some closure and allow them to part, maybe not as friends, but at least not at odds with each other.  
  
“I am to depart for Longbourn in three days and would welcome your call, sir.”  
  
They were still looking at each other in silence when they were joined by Jane who, on seeing that her sister and Mr Darcy were together, had hastened towards them in order to relieve Elizabeth from keeping company with a man she had wished to avoid. She had just exchanged greetings with Mr Darcy when Sir Nicholas arrived, accompanied by their host. The former had expressed the desire to be introduced to Jane, and Mr Brown complied but had to depart soon, for his wife had beckoned him.  
  
Sir Nicholas smiled and looked successively at Miss Bennet, his friend, and the other young lady whom Jane Bennet seemed to know.  
  
“Well, I suppose it is up to us to make the remaining introductions, Miss Bennet. Between the two of us, I dare say we shall manage nicely.”  
  
Jane gave him a gentle smile.  
  
“There will be no need for that, Harcourt,” said Darcy. “The misses Bennet and I are already acquainted.” Was that a hint of a smile on his friend's face? _Darcy smiling, at a ball? Wonders will never cease_. Darcy introduced him to the remaining lady—she turned out to be the sister of the lovely one.  
  
“Where did you meet each other?”  
  
“In Hertfordshire, last autumn,” Miss Bennet said. “Mr Darcy was a guest in a neighbourhood home.”  
  
The musicians began to play, indicating the next set was to begin shortly, and Sir Nicholas blurted:  
  
“Miss Bennet, will you grant me a dance?”  
  
As an afterthought, he added: “And you as well, Miss Elizabeth?”  
  
“I should be pleased to do so,” said Jane. “I only have the second to the last set free, though.”  
  
“As for me,” added Elizabeth, “my dance card is woefully empty. You may have whatever set you wish.”  
  
Dancing now with Elizabeth and later with Jane suited Sir Nicholas, and he was about to lead Elizabeth on the dance floor when Darcy asked:  
  
“Will you grant me your next dance, Miss Elizabeth?”  
  
She nodded and followed her partner to take place into the line. She was more than a little distracted during the dance, and though she managed to get through the paces flawlessly, she was rather inattentive to her partner's conversation.  
  
There was some bustle along the dance near the end of the line, but Elizabeth thought nothing of it until, when Sir Nicholas led her to the side, she was greeted by the sight of her aunt decidedly striding toward her.  
  
“At last, Lizzy! Jane has twisted her ankle and must be tended to immediately. We must go home—your uncle is making her excuses to her dancers as we speak.”  
  
Elizabeth could not leave without excusing herself to Mr Darcy as well. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly when she realized that it would be the third time that evening that she would apologise to him—that each of their conversations had included some apology. That smile soon died when she realized that, for the first time in their acquaintance, she would really have liked to dance with the gentleman.  
  
“But, Aunt,” she began, “I am engaged for the next two dances. Could we not stay just half an hour more?”  
  
“Impossible,” answered Mrs Gardiner. “Jane suffers dreadfully and needs some rest. I waited until the end of your present dance, but we cannot linger more. Besides, I am surprised by your request: earlier in the evening you wished to depart for home, and now that we must depart, you want to stay? Should you not be happy that the circumstances grant you your wish?”  
  
What Elizabeth wished was to insist, but she knew not how to best present her request, and seeing her hesitation as a capitulation, Sir Nicholas spoke.  
  
“Go, I shall make your excuses to Darcy. He will understand.”  
  
Resigned, Elizabeth thanked him and took her leave.  
  
**In a carriage on its way back to Gracechurch Street**  
  
It was now Elizabeth's turn to sigh and Jane's to comment on it. “Frankly, Lizzy, I do not understand you at all. Earlier you were ready to flee the ball in order to avoid Mr Darcy entirely, and now you regret _not_ dancing with him?”  
  
“Indeed,” added Mrs Gardiner, “you ought to be grateful that Jane's mishap saved you from an uncomfortable set.”  
  
Elizabeth looked at them, wondering how to begin. Jane came up with a reason of her own to explain the distress she saw on her sister's face and, taking her hand, said with feeling:  
  
“Poor Lizzy! Maybe you feared that he would take offence at your leaving so soon after having accepted him?”  
  
Mrs Gardiner smiled and leaned forward to pat her younger niece's other hand.  
  
“Worry not. His friend was present when I explained why we had to leave at once, was he not? Mr Darcy will have no reason at all to feel slighted. I suppose such a young man is not rejected frequently, but he will know you did not mean to offend him. You would be too prudent for that, anyway. You can rest easy.”  
  
Elizabeth smiled in return, but it did not exactly reach her eyes. In the dimness of the carriage, none of her relatives noticed it. She felt lonelier than ever. The two people in whom she was certain she could confide in had just proven they could not understand her at all—worse, they seemed to have morphed into complete strangers.  
  
When they arrived home, Elizabeth felt too close to tears to wish to stay with the others and, as Jane's ankle was tended to, went directly to bed where, against all odds, she slept soundly until the morning.  
  
**Darcy's house, late at night, after the ball**  
  
Mr Darcy and Sir Nicholas had been on their way not long after the Bennets and Gardiners had left. The former had been annoyed to miss yet another occasion to dance with Elizabeth Bennet, and still more annoyed that his friend _had_ had that opportunity. Darcy had then danced a little, with quiet, shy tradesmen’s daughters who were happy not to sit but did not plague him with flirtation. All in all, that had been a rather enjoyable experience.  
  
As the night was still young, and neither of them wished to go out any more, the two friends were now seated in armchairs in Darcy's library. They had a glass in hand, and one stared at the fire, lost in his thoughts, his mind full of Elizabeth Bennet, while the other observed him.  
  
At last the baronet spoke.  
  
“So, Darcy? What did you think of the evening? I dare say it was not half as dreadful as you feared.”  
  
Darcy raised an inquisitive eyebrow. His friend gladly continued.  
  
“The men we spoke with were well-informed, and the girls we danced with quite pretty. Pity, though, that Miss Bennet hurt herself before I could dance with her.” He winked.  
  
Darcy rolled his eyes.  
  
“Oh, please!” laughed Sir Nicholas. “You are just jealous that you could not have a dance with her as well—that you did not have even the _possibility_ to be accepted! I suppose you asked her sister out of politeness, as I did. Well, at least you have been spared _that_.”  
  
Darcy looked sharply at his friend. Of course he was jealous—Harcourt had had the pleasure to dance with Elizabeth. But how dared he speak of her so dismissively? Darcy frowned and asked slowly:  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean that she was dull—she had no conversation. It was as if her mind was elsewhere; she barely paid me any attention at all. It was rather vexing, I am not used to such a treatment,” pouted Harcourt. “You must have noticed it—were you not talking to her before her sister joined you? That was a clever way of getting to talk to Miss Bennet, by the way! As I said, pity this did not lead to anything. Of course, you could call on her, but _then_ she would be justified in having some expectations.”  
  
“I _do_ intend to call at their uncle's home tomorrow,” Darcy interjected. “I suppose I could also enquire after Miss Bennet's health. Moreover, Miss Elizabeth is not at all dull, she must indeed have been distracted during your set.” _Distracted by me, I hope. Alas, more probably by the dawning revelation that I had been right about her sister. And she does not even know the full story._  
  
His friend shrugged.  
  
“I still say this is rather vexing. A country miss, whom I made the honour to partner in a dance, being _distracted_ by something else? Still, if she were half the beauty her elder sister is, I may not have minded. But she is only ... tolerable, I presume.”  
  
_And not handsome enough to tempt me._  
  
“Oh dear.” _So this is what turned her against me. No wonder she had been furious and did not have any expectations._  
  
Sir Nicholas Harcourt was looking at him curiously.  
  
“Did I just say that aloud?”  
  
“I have no idea what _that_ is—but I own I am curious at your reaction.”  
  
Darcy sighed.  
  
“I said something similar in Miss Elizabeth's hearing at nearly the first moment of our acquaintance. I had quite forgotten that I did—your words just reminded me of mine. She was rather offended, for a long time, and I cannot blame her.”  
  
Sir Nicholas sniggered.  
  
“Well, she did not seem to hate you tonight—maybe she was not aware then of how much money you had? In my experience, being rich is a quality that can make people forgive one's offences quite easily.”  
  
He winked. Darcy only shook his head but, when they parted afterwards, he allowed himself to hope some more.


	3. Chapter 3

The following day, the ladies gathered in Mrs Gardiner's drawing room and received the callers who had come for Jane after Miss Brown's ball. Mr Matthews, a well-off draper, had just taken his leave, when the door opened again, and the maid announced Mr Darcy.  
  
The gentleman greeted the young ladies, Mrs Gardiner was introduced to him, and he was invited to take a seat. Miss Bennet sat alone on a sofa, her foot resting carefully on a cushion. Miss Elizabeth and Miss Lucas were seated on the opposite sofa, and Mrs Gardiner on a chair between her nieces. Darcy sat on another chair, between this hostess and Elizabeth, and first enquired about the elder sister’s health.  
  
“I hope, Miss Bennet, that your injury is not a serious one.”  
  
Jane smiled sweetly and assured him that, according to the physician, she would be able to move normally in the next few days; after offering his wishes for her recovery, he turned toward his neighbour.  
  
“I was sorry to miss the chance to dance with you yesterday.”  
  
Elizabeth smiled hesitantly.  
  
“I am really sorry I could not stay, sir.” And feeling a little bold, she added: “However, should we ever attend the same ball, I shall save a set for you.”  
  
She was rewarded by a brilliant smile that went unnoticed by the others, for the maid came again and announced a Mr Faulkner.  
  
After the introductions were made, the gentleman sat near Jane and began to entertain her and her aunt. After a glance at Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, Jane turned her attention to the newcomer's conversation.  
  
It soon appeared that Mr Darcy was not done answering Elizabeth, for once the conversation had resumed, he added:  
  
“With such an inducement, I shall make a point of attending every gathering you will grace with your presence.”  
  
She blushed and hardly knew what to answer.  
  
“As much as I should appreciate knowing someone wherever we go,” she said when she had composed herself, “I do not know what my aunt has planned. You will have to apply to her for information, sir.”  
  
“I know we are to attend the opera tomorrow,” interjected Maria. “Your uncle told me this morning that he had paid for a box at the King's Theatre!”  
  
“I do rent a box there myself. I hope I shall have the pleasure to see you tomorrow evening.”  
  
“I hope so as well, sir,” a confused Elizabeth answered. She wondered what Mr Darcy was about. Something in his manner hinted at more than politeness. Was he flirting with her? She was not prepared for that. She had merely wanted to make amends; though the notion of being courted by him did not repel her, she wondered whether it would be wise to encourage his attentions.  
  
Returning to the subject at hand, Elizabeth enquired about the composer, Maria about the performers, and the three of them discussed the upcoming opera until it was time for Mr Darcy to depart.  
  
As luck would have it, Mrs Gardiner asked Elizabeth to see the gentleman out, and once they were in the hall, Mr Darcy quietly asked Elizabeth if he could call on her on the morrow. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. He seemed hopeful, his usual mask of haughtiness momentarily discarded, and something in her softened.  
  
“I shall be happy to see you, sir.”  
  
As she watched the door close on him, she hoped she had not made a foolish decision.  
  
**A fashionable club on Saint James Street, shortly afterwards**  
  
Darcy had gone directly to his club after his visit. On entering the main room, he had a spring in his step that appeared unusual to many an observer. Sir Nicholas was amongst them as well as Alexander Wilson, who was of an age with Harcourt and Darcy and had been acquainted with them while they all attended Cambridge. The three of them were often found together.  
  
Darcy's eldest cousin, Henry Fitzwilliam, Viscount Wynwood, was speaking with the aforementioned gentlemen and was no less curious about his relative’s apparent good mood.  
  
“Darcy! It is unlike you to come here so late—Harcourt just told us you were at some ball last evening. Was it so tiring that you had to oversleep this morning?” teased the Viscount as soon as they all had exchanged greetings.  
  
“Not at all. I merely paid a call before heading for the club.”  
  
“And who have you been calling on?”  
  
Darcy hesitated slightly. He would have liked to say he was calling on Elizabeth, but though she had not been entirely discouraging, he felt too unsure of his success to expose himself to his cousin and thus made a more general answer.  
  
“I have seen the Misses Bennet.”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Never heard that name before.”  
  
“ _What_?”  
  
That last exclamation was from Sir Nicholas.  
  
“For Heaven's sake, Darcy! The entire purpose of last evening was to teach you how to have fun _without_ raising expectations. If you called on her, you _unavoidably_ raised some! I _did_ warn you against that. I hope you do not get so much involved as to make impossible for you to step out. Miss Bennet is a gentlewoman, and though she does not move in the same circles as you, if you pay her some attention—and I admit that she is a lovely young woman—she would be justified to believe that—”  
  
“Have you quite finished?” cut off Darcy, who was growing tired of Harcourt's ramblings. “I did not call on Miss Bennet specifically. Actually, I spent the bulk of my visit conversing with Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Lucas, while the elder Miss Bennet was entertaining a young man who came expressly to see her.”  
  
“Miss Lucas? I do not remember seeing her yesterday.”  
  
“You did not. She had been feeling unwell. I knew her from Hertfordshire—she is a neighbour of the Bennets. I saw her—and Miss Elizabeth—some weeks ago at Rosings, for her elder sister is married to my aunt's parson and had invited the ladies for a visit around Easter. As the ladies had just come back to London, I considered it only civil to visit them.”  
  
“Civil?”  
  
Wilson seemed doubtful.  
  
“Yes, civil. I should not have felt comfortable had I ignored them after having been calling at the parsonage these past weeks. What kind of message would that attitude convey? That I had been interested in their company as a means to escape my aunt, but that now, where I know enough people, I can throw away the acquaintance in an eye-blink? That would have been rude, I think.”  
  
“I can understand your reasoning,” Harcourt said, frowning a little. “But that means you will have to be particularly careful—you do not want to create another Miss Bingley.”  
  
The gentlemen guffawed.  
  
“Ah, poor Miss Bingley. Since you are _civil_ with her because of your friendship with her brother, she believes you will make her an offer of marriage. Can she be further from the truth?”  
  
“Wilson, while I do not care for her enough for that, the lady is not without qualities.”  
  
“Such as?”  
  
Darcy merely sighed and shook his head.  
  
“Bingley was here earlier, by the way. He just came back from his visit in the north, and told us he would attend the opera with his sisters tomorrow.”  
  
Darcy froze. He had planned to attend the opera alone but, if he did so, the chances were high that the Bingley party would end up in his box at the earliest occasion. An evening with Caroline Bingley at his side when all he wished was to make some progress with Elizabeth Bennet was not something he looked forward to. While Miss Bingley was agreeable enough in general, she had also a very caustic wit that exerted itself at the expense of ladies she percieved as threats, and he was not in a mood to listen to her disparage the Bennets.  
  
“The Misses Bennet and their friend will also be there. We discussed the plot yesterday. Both Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth had read the libretto—though the former only read the translation. It will be the first time either of them will see it on stage, I believe. Actually, it will be the first time Miss Lucas will ever see an opera. She was very enthusiastic about it.”  
  
“I must have a look at these ladies,” the Viscount said. “Do you mind if I borrow your box—and your company—tomorrow?”  
  
“Not at all—Wilson, Harcourt, would you care to join us?”  
  
A party of four was thus formed and Darcy was pleased to have achieved what he wanted—a guarantee of distance from Caroline Bingley—without much trouble. Of course there would be some price to pay. His friends would tease him about the ladies—if not them, his cousin. He was, however, ready to endure it. Now that he thought about it, it may be a way to not overly surprise all his relations when someday—hopefully soon—he would announce his betrothal to Elizabeth.  
  
**Gracechurch Street, the following day**  
  
Fitzwilliam Darcy was again in Mrs Gardiner's drawing room in company of the four ladies of the house. A Mr Matthews had arrived at the same time as he and looked at him warily at first, making a point to sit nearer to Miss Bennet than Darcy did. Soon realising the latter bestowed no special attention upon the former, he relaxed and the two men even talked for some time about business investments, before the tradesman turned his attention towards Jane, and Darcy again talked of the upcoming opera with Elizabeth, Miss Lucas occasionally commenting on their discussion. He saw a difference in Elizabeth's attitude towards him. She was maybe a little more shy, more reserved, but at the same time there was a warmth in her words that had not been there previously.  
  
Jane and Mr Matthews joined the conversation which was now about opera in general, until it was time for the gentlemen to go on their way. Darcy was heading to his club on Saint James Street, while Matthews had an appointment with a supplier; as Darcy's carriage had been waiting for him, he offered Matthews a ride. They were soon making their way through London.  
  
Darcy was happy to have the opportunity to converse with the other man. He was interested in continuing their earlier discussion about the investments they planned and those they made. He was glad to have an opportunity to practice conversation with a stranger—and he hoped he could let slip that he was no rival for Jane's Bennet affections. Or ambitions. That descriptive was more accurate.  
  
When they parted, Darcy had the feeling he just made a valuable acquaintance. Though not his equal in wealth or consequence, the young man was well-informed and not did act in order to gain his approbation. That change was rather refreshing. _That was what attracted me to Elizabeth at first. Well, besides her figure. And her eyes. But that was what made me realise that I was in some danger from her._ By then he had arrived in his club's main room and went to greet his friends and cousins who were gathered as the day before. The conversation soon drifted to their plans for the evening.  
  
“Darcy, would you happen to know where the Misses Bennet will be seated? I should not like to be seen searching for them.”  
  
“They will have a box, but likely not one of the best ones. I believe we shall easily spot them.”  
  
“Miss Bennet will have to be careful with her ankle anyway,” Sir Nicholas added, before frowning. “Will she be able to walk about this evening?”  
  
“What happened to her?”  
  
“She experienced a nasty fall the other evening.” He theatrically sighed. “It prevented me from dancing with her. Of course, Darcy is jealous because _I_ obtained a dance from her before _he_ did—and that was her last open set. As he is a rather vindictive fellow, he rejoices in my misfortune.”  
  
The gentlemen chuckled, and Darcy could not help but smile. He _was_ indeed jealous that his friend had obtained a dance with a Miss Bennet before he—Sir Nicholas was only wrong about which Miss Bennet it was. The other men sobered. Never before, in all the years they had known their friend, had he looked so soft.  
  
“Oh. You _must_ be besotted!”  
  
Darcy smiled more and shook his head.  
  
“Oh, come now. I certainly _never_ saw you with such an exp ****ression on your face,” said his cousin.  
  
Darcy was still too happy with his thoughts of Elizabeth—and her apparent thawing toward him—to make a biting answer.  
  
“Oh, well, I suppose that we should have expected something like that when you did not attach yourself to any young lady these past seasons. The insipid, spoiled heiresses of the Ton hold no charm for you; Mother should have stopped her efforts at matchmaking.”  
  
That caused a reaction: Darcy rolled his eyes.  
  
“I suppose, since you _do_ favour country over town, that it would make sense for you to marry a country girl,” Wilson added.  
  
“And since she is beautiful, such an alliance would be easily explained,” Sir Nicholas smiled.  
  
Maybe he should not leave them in error. But perhaps he would enlighten them only after the opera—and meanwhile see if they managed to guess the truth by themselves. He smiled again. Elizabeth might be more easily accepted than he once had feared.  
  
“I shall not confirm anything about your speculations.”  
  
“Very well—we shall see it for ourselves this evening anyway.”  
  
“May you have your eyes wide open,” Darcy winked.  
  
“I do not know what she has done, but I rather like this new you.”  
  
Darcy refused to answer and soon the subject turned to politics.  
  
**Meanwhile, on Gracechurch Street**  
  
In the Gardiner's home, the ladies were by themselves. Maria was in her room writing a letter to her father, while Mrs Gardiner and her nieces were embroidering in the drawing room. They were in the middle of a discussion about gowns—would the waistline completely disappear, or regain a more natural location?—when Elizabeth's mind drifted away to Mr Darcy.  
  
She began to hope for a renewal, however unlikely it could be, of his proposal. Whatever faults Mr Darcy had, hypocrisy was not one of them, and it made him strongly appealing. She had no doubt she would be happier married to him than unmarried and at home in her present circumstances, but what of the future? Could she be happy married to a man she did not love—and whose affection would not, could not last? She had witnessed how it was with her parents. However, when she thought more about Mr Darcy’s character, she was surprised to find that the first answer that came to her was: “Yes, probably.”  
  
Were he to propose again soon, she would hardly know what to answer. If pressed, she thought she would accept him, but before tying herself to him she would rather know more of his character.  
  
Unlike her father and mother, they _did_ share common interests. She also belatedly understood that she had _enjoyed_ her debates with Mr Darcy when they were at Netherfield. She still had some difficulty in imagining Mr Darcy as a friend—not to mention a lover—but she could envision him as a partner in life. Another point in his favour was that he did not dismiss what she said, even at Netherfield, when he had no intentions toward her, and thus nothing to gain in courting her good opinion. Neither did he dismiss her opinion because she was a woman; he might have challenged her beliefs, but he did respect her enough to not simply put them aside. Infatuation could, would wane … but respect would last, and as she felt more and more assured of having his respect, she began to believe she could have a better marriage than her mother had. The fortune involved also helped—there could be no doubt that _their_ children would be cared for should something dire befall him—but all was moot if the gentleman did not declare himself again.  
  
Elizabeth sighed, drawing the attention of her aunt who stopped in the middle of a sentence.  
  
“Now, Elizabeth, I believe we need to talk.”  
  
“Is that not what we are doing?”  
  
Mrs Gardiner shook her head. “We were, until you stopped paying attention. We have put up with your impertinence for Jane's sake all these years—and I dare say we managed to curb it a little as you grew up and succeeded in making a proper lady of you.”  
  
Elizabeth started. She thought her aunt valued her for herself, but apparently she had been wrong. Mrs Gardiner was not finished with her lecture, and her niece focused on her words.  
  
“You still are too quick to utter some witticism or other, or a comment you think clever, but what you do not realise is that it can frighten away some young men—from you as well as from Jane or your other sisters. I understand such a situation did arise recently, and I shall _not_ tolerate that you jeopardise again your sister's happiness.”  
  
A shocked Elizabeth looked at Mrs Gardiner, and then at her sister ... who nodded in approval. It took all her self-control not to gape.  
  
“What can you mean?”  
  
Her aunt sighed.  
  
“You certainly remember Mr Bingley, Lizzy.”  
  
The young lady's eyebrows rose high. Mrs Gardiner nodded knowingly, and leaving her book aside, Jane spoke.  
  
“You did not get along with his sister, and you did frequently argue with his friend while we were at Netherfield. You _told_ me that. My mother was witness to such an argument herself. You took delight in annoying him and did not hide your dislike of all the party but Mr Bingley himself. Is it any wonder that he hesitated to pursue a relationship with someone whose sister did not think twice before acting improperly?”  
  
Elizabeth was speechless. Had she not been more and more convinced that her sister's heart had likely not been touched by that desertion, Jane's speech would have upset her more than it actually did, but it still was a blow—and it was not over.  
  
“Do not think, Lizzy, that I was not grateful for your presence at my bedside when I was ill. I truly was—but why did you have to come on foot, alone, and without a care for where you put your feet? The state of your petticoat was an object of scorn from Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley—the maids spoke about it when they thought I was sleeping.” The pain in her voice was obvious.  
  
Elizabeth knew her behaviour had not always been unerringly proper, but she did not expect such censure from her mild-mannered sister. Such words would have had their place in Mary's mouth, but they were shocking in Jane's. Even Mr Darcy had obviously not thought that she deserved such censure, though perhaps he was not an impartial observer. Still, Elizabeth did not believe _she_ was the most improper of the Bennet sisters—her actions were mild in regard to her youngest sisters'.  
  
“You cannot think that my attitude alone could have been enough to frighten away Mr Bingley. What of our sisters?”  
  
“What of them?” Jane seemed genuinely surprised.  
  
“Mary and her ill-timed sermonising and exhibiting, Kitty and Lydia's wildness ...”  
  
“They are young. It is expected that they are a little silly, and I cannot see anything wrong with Mary—she may lack taste, but this is hardly a fault. It is commendable that she tries to display her accomplishments.”  
  
“And our mother—”  
  
“—is loud and embarrassing, but on the whole no different than any mother wanting to see her daughters well-settled.”  
  
_Yes she is_ , thought Elizabeth. _The others have some veneer of politeness my mother entirely lacks. Why is Jane so blind? She was as mortified as I was after the Netherfield ball—was she not?_  
  
Elizabeth began to wonder whether she had made a mistake in refusing Mr Darcy's offer in the first place. She would have been far away from all this wilful blindness, all this hypocrisy. _But no—had I done so, I would still believe Jane and my aunt to be perfect._ They would have congratulated her for catching such a distinguished gentleman and planned to use that new connection in order to advance themselves in Society. Mr Darcy would have warned her against them, but she would not have believed him. In truth, it still bewildered her to have misread her sister so. _I needed to see for myself_. While she once again concluded she had made the right choice in refusing Mr Darcy when she did, she dearly hoped he would not give up on her. It seemed unlikely that he would, if his attentions of the last days were any indication, but the reality of what her family was might make him realise that he should better walk away.  
  
_A woman must often show more affection than she feels if she wants to help a gentleman fall in love with her._ Charlotte had told her something like that one evening, before Mr Collins entered their neighbourhood. Elizabeth had been appalled at the time, but maybe she should now heed that advice. Maybe she should encourage Mr Darcy a little. He had not needed that to fall in love with her in Kent, nor to call on her at her aunt’s home, but it could do no harm to make her intentions more clear.  
  
Other parts of her friend’s advice were dismissed. Elizabeth did not believe happiness was merely a matter of _chance_ and was glad to have some notions of what the gentleman's faults were. She thought they could be rather well suited. He was painfully honest, but he did not mind her teasing, surely that would count for something? The more she thought about it, the more she believed he did probably _welcome_ what her aunt called impertinence. If she married him, she would have to adjust a little to her new place in the world, but Mr Darcy would never ask her to completely change, to become a new creature entirely. She had no guarantee that any man, no matter what sphere he belonged to, would accept such a lively wife.  
  
Had she married her cousin, as her mother wished, he would have demanded that she showed more humility, especially toward his patroness. Charlotte did not mind that, but Elizabeth was not as sedate as her friend. Elizabeth would have been miserable in her place. She made her decision. She would show Mr Darcy some interest—and pray that he would renew his offer. That would also mean that his first proposal must remain a secret—she could not confide in Jane as she had planned to do, but then she was not in a mood to share that information with her sister anymore either. If she did, Jane would probably berate her for having acted so contrarily to their family's interest once again. Maybe, if her father was reluctant to grant Mr Darcy her hand, he would have to be told in order to be convinced that she had not accepted Mr Darcy on a whim.  
  
“ _Lizzy!_ ”  
  
Elizabeth jumped—lost in her thoughts, she had stopped to pay attention to the conversation.  
  
“Aunt? I am sorry, I was not attending.”  
  
Mrs Gardiner sighed and resumed her speech.  
  
“I was saying that you must not anger Mr Darcy. I do not quite understand why he visits, and he has done so twice already! Perhaps he wished at first to hear some news of Rosings from you and Miss Lucas, but he might also have kept coming for Jane.”  
  
Elizabeth glanced at her sister, who was smiling, as their aunt continued.  
  
“Of course he does not speak with her, but that might be because he happens to call when others are present for her and he thinks himself above competition. With him being so very proud, it is not impossible. He might even be there on Mr Bingley's behalf. So, do not act in a way that might ruin your sister's chances _again_. Even if Mr Darcy's only reason to call is because he is bored, arguing with him might make other suitors think twice about aligning themselves with Jane. No one likes an argumentative woman, and no one wants to gain one as a sister. So, dear, be nice.”  
  
Her niece smiled tightly. “I shall be, Aunt. I shall be.”  
  
Here, to Elizabeth’s dismay, Jane smiled demurely. “I shall try to engage him in conversation if he calls again, Aunt, but it would be easier if he sat beside _me_.”  
  
“Do not worry dear, I shall arrange the seating so there will be little choice to be had—though, for the sake of appearances, he must feel he has one. But, _please_ , Elizabeth, do behave when suitors are calling for Jane. You do not want to frighten them away!”  
  
Elizabeth raised one eyebrow.  
  
“I do not intend to change my ways for Mr Darcy’s sake, and I believe he is sufficiently familiar with them to wonder at any alteration in my behaviour.”  
  
“Lizzy!” Both Mrs Gardiner and Jane were horrified. “You just said you would be nice!”  
  
“Yes, but I shall not play a role. As I said, Mr Darcy _would_ know I am acting.”  
  
“You might have a point,” said Mrs Gardiner, pursing her lips. “But still, behave!”  
  
Maria Lucas then entered the drawing room, and the conversation about fashions was picked up again, drifting to evening fashions.  
  
Miss Lucas was thrilled at the perspective of an evening spent at the theatre, and to see an opera, no less! She was also fretting about the possibility that her dresses were too outdated. Mrs Gardiner reassured her—she could wear the dress she had planned to wear at the ball. Jane had another new dress, and Elizabeth would pick another evening gown she had worn at Rosings.  
  
“But what if Mr Darcy sees us? For I already wore my best dresses at Rosings, and so has Elizabeth.”  
  
“I doubt Mr Darcy will be so uncivil as to point this—you may change a ribbon or add some lace to your dress, but you might as well save yourself the trouble of doing so, since it is not even certain Mr Darcy will attend.”  
  
“But he will!” retorted Maria, pleased to know something that was ignored by her hostess. “He told us so yesterday.”  
  
Mrs Gardiner sent a pleased look at Jane—and a displeased one at Elizabeth.  
  
“Did he? Why did you not tell us so, Lizzy?”  
  
“He merely said he planned to attend the same opera. I did not think—”  
  
She could not continue, for her aunt was speaking again.  
  
“We have to ensure Jane looks her best!”  
  
Elizabeth knew not what to answer that would not be rude or aggravating, and as she was searching for words that would carry her point without revealing too much, she was preempted by Maria Lucas.  
  
“But, Mrs Gardiner, why would you think he has any interest in Jane? He spent the time of his visits speaking with Eliza and I, even before Mr Faulkner or Mr Matthews arrived!”  
  
“Maybe he wishes to be cautious or to repair the bad impression he had left in Meryton. If I remember, Lizzy was his first detractor, and he might wish to prove her that she was mistaken.”  
  
“He _knows_ I am aware of this, Aunt!” Elizabeth blurted. _And besides, he also believes that Jane is not what I thought she was and would not be interested in her at all._ Her melancholy must have shown on her face, for her aunt next said :  
  
“At least you seem to be penitent enough on that point.”  
  
Elizabeth chose not to contradict her and took some needlework, wishing more than ever that she could be far away from all her relatives, while feeling miserable at the thought of their loss.


	4. Chapter 4

**King’s Theatre, the evening of the opera**  
  
When Darcy arrived at the theatre, he looked around and soon spotted his friends. They mingled with their other acquaintances, and while Darcy could not see the Gardiner party, he reasoned that they would likely have reached their box as soon as they arrived in order to get the ladies away from the crowd. The party of friends gathered just before the beginning of the opera, and the gentlemen lost no time in gaining their seats. It took Darcy some time, and as a result he might have been rather inattentive to what happened on the stage, but at last he saw Miss Bennet on a balcony. Her younger sister was less easy to find, for she sat in a corner.  
  
Though all three young ladies had a good view of the stage and other patrons, Jane Bennet was the one whom Mrs Gardiner had seated in such a way that she would be the one whose figure would be shown to most advantage. Indeed, more than a few opera glasses were directed towards her. She seemed not to notice this and appeared as serene as Darcy had ever seen her. He wondered again at her hiding her game so well, much better than the other fortune-hunting ladies of the Town, when it was impossible that her mother had been the one to teach her to deport herself in a ladylike fashion.  
  
Perhaps this was the work of her aunt, or of another lady they knew. If anything, he could admire her for that. The other master of disguise he knew was not half as gifted as that lady was, and he shuddered at the thought of the evil Miss Bennet could do if she was of a mind to do so. Luckily, it seemed that self-interest and prudence governed her moves. He hoped that Elizabeth had not been too crushed on realising that her beloved sister was not the model of virtue she thought her to be. Then again, perhaps Miss Bennet had managed to explain her behaviour in a light that did not put her to disadvantage, and Elizabeth’s sisterly affection might have prevented her from being disappointed with her sister.  
  
Darcy wondered whether he had a chance to win her hand. He remembered that night at Netherfield, when he had decided that being related to Mrs Bennet and her silly or scheming offsprings was too high a price to pay for having Elizabeth in his life. He now thought otherwise—why, he would even accept _Wickham_ as part of his family rather than live without Elizabeth. Her younger sisters were enamoured enough with the officers for that to actually be a possibility.  
  
Suddenly, everyone seemed to move. The first part of the opera had ended without him being aware of it. He turned and faced Viscount Wynwood's smile.  
  
"She is beautiful, is she not? Now _this_ is a lady I wish I was acquainted with!"  
  
Darcy blinked slowly.  
  
“Which one?”  
  
"The one in the pink dress, who else? You—and not only you, I grant you—have done little more than stare at her these past minutes."  
  
"If you truly wish for an introduction, I can do so now providing we manage to reach them in this crowd." Darcy was not certain of the wisdom of such a thing, but it would enable him to talk with Miss Elizabeth, and had he not thought to do exactly such a thing when planning this evening?  
  
In the end, the Gardiner party had not moved far away from their box and Darcy could easily do the necessary introductions. Once it was done, Wynwood, Harcourt and Wilson fluttered around Jane as butterflies. The lady was at her uncle's side and smiled sweetly to all of them, deporting herself in a similar way as she had with Bingley in the Autumn. Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth stood some feet behind them with Mrs Gardiner, having made some room for the gentlemen after the introductions were made, and Darcy joined them. He enquired about their opinion regarding the choice of the performers, and though he himself had very little to say on the subject because of his earlier inattention, such had not been the case of Miss Lucas. Darcy listened indulgently to her description. Miss Elizabeth had little to add, and he hoped that, perhaps, it was because she had been as distracted by him than he had been by her.  
  
Far too soon, the bell rang, and they separated to join their respective seats. Darcy hoped more than believed that he could speak with Elizabeth during the second intermission.  
  
It did not escape his party's attention that he was no more attentive to the second act than he had been to the first. However, when the act came to an end, it was impossible to go and meet the Gardiner party again, for Mr Bingley and his sisters had come to greet the gentlemen. Well, Bingley had come, and his sisters, particularly the younger one, were making a show of standing inconspicuously some yards behind him. Politeness demanded that they greet the ladies, but Darcy was annoyed at the thought of missing an occasion to speak with Miss Elizabeth. Miss Bingley could not let the occasion pass to disparage Jane Bennet—Darcy wondered whether she had noticed her younger sister’s presence.  
  
With that, his thoughts turned towards Elizabeth Bennet again. He wondered if she had been as distracted during the second act as he himself had been. He thought he had seen her attempt to look in his direction once or twice—but she was seated in such a way that he could see no more than her hand resting on the balustrade and a few strands of her hair. To any observer, he would have been staring at the elder Miss Bennet, not at the sister who was hidden behind. He barely managed to gather enough attention to his surroundings to attend to Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst’s conversation, and a frown or two on their part revealed that he had not been entirely successful.  
  
The closure of the third act did not bring Darcy any satisfaction. There were too many people out of their boxes to even hope meeting Elizabeth and her party again, and Darcy resigned himself to not seeing his lady until he next time he called on her. As he readied himself for bed that night, he hoped nothing would forestall him to do so in the morning, since it was the last day that Elizabeth would spend in town, for he meant to ask for her permission to call on her at Longbourn.  
  
Furthering their acquaintance would be done at her home. The thought did not make him shudder as much as it would have earlier in the year, and he only wondered whether Elizabeth would be as welcoming of his calls in Hertfordshire as she had been in London. He thought he had made some progress with her but could not be certain of her feelings and feared that, wary of her mother’s reaction, she would hesitate to receive him at Longbourn for that reason.  
  
Darcy did not know how he would react were she to reject his suit and, for the first time, wondered if he should incite Bingley to come back to Hertfordshire. He did not mean to encourage his friend to go after Jane Bennet again, but the weather was becoming warmer, and the fishing could be agreeable—even more because the city air was becoming more stifling. Maybe, if his presence in Netherfield was not obviously seen as a pursuit of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the lady would be less reluctant to receive him.  
  
Darcy sighed. Nothing could be done, or planned, until he met with Elizabeth on the morrow, and even then he could not be assured that they would have the opportunity to discuss. Perhaps he should enlist Miss Lucas's help. The girl seemed as empty-headed as she had ever been, but she also appeared to genuinely like Miss Elizabeth, and he had thought, once or twice, that she did make an effort to facilitate the conversation between them. He would suggest an outing, hoping that only the two ladies would accept, and seize the occasion to speak.  
  
**The morning after, at the club**  
  
When Darcy had excused himself soon after the opera ended, his friends had extracted a promise to meet early on the morrow. The four gentlemen were thus gathered in a corner of the room, cup of coffee in hand, and after some comments related to the performance, the conversation turned to the ladies they had met the previous evening.  
  
“Miss Bennet is indeed a lovely woman, but you might have wished to show her a tad more interest.”  
  
“I thought more would have bordered on rudeness toward the rest of her party.”  
  
“Oh, come on! You spent your time with the sister and the friend—but you barely greeted the lady herself!”  
  
“I know we were all vying for her attentions, but still …”  
  
“Oh.” Darcy started. He had thought his friends would be more perceptive, but apparently they only interpreted what they saw in order to make the facts confirm their preconceived ideas.  
  
“I think you are all labouring under a small misunderstanding,” he said slowly. “I am not interested in _that_ Miss Bennet.”  
  
“Not _that_ ... what, would your interest lay in her _sister_?”  
  
“Which one was she?”  
  
“No idea—I only had eyes for the eldest. She is truly a most beautiful woman.”  
  
“I think it was the brunette one. I own I am surprised, however. I thought you were only paying attention to the girls in order to show Miss Bennet you did not neglect her friends.”  
  
“That is what I thought too. The sister is pretty, but she is nothing to Miss Bennet.”  
  
Here Darcy rolled his eyes. “Especially when it comes to hypocrisy.”  
  
“Care to elaborate?” said Harcourt, signalling for more coffee.  
  
“Miss Elizabeth is refreshingly honest. She genuinely cares for the feelings of others—even if she can be sometimes misguided.” He was looking at nothing, smiling at a memory.  
  
“There _is_ a story there!”  
  
“Hmm? Oh, suffice to say that we have argued.” He shook his head, smiled again and said nothing more.  
  
“ _That_ might explain why she was so reticent, almost shy.”  
  
“I thought you had eyes only for the elder Miss Bennet? Anyway, gentlemen, I advise you not to be taken in by that lady. She is all smiles and charm on the outside—but she is calculating and mercenary at heart. So, beware.”  
  
“And how would you know that?”  
  
“I had the opportunity to observe her.”  
  
“So she is not very different from your average society young lady—fortune and connections notwhithstanding. Tell us again, Darcy. How did you meet the Bennet sisters?”  
  
“Bingley leased an estate next to their father’s last autumn.”  
  
“Let me guess: Bingley had eyes only for Miss Bennet and fell out of his fascination for her a couple of months after making her acquaintance,” sniggered Wilson. “While she was monopolised by your friend, you were stuck with the younger sister and ended liking her well enough.”  
  
“I believe you could put it that way,” Darcy said with a shrug.  
  
**Meanwhile, on Gracechurch Street**  
  
“Elizabeth, a word, please,” said Mrs Gardiner when the two ladies found themselves alone in the breakfast room.  
  
“Yes, Aunt?”  
  
“In light of what has happened these past days, are you certain that you wish to travel with us this summer?”  
  
Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, then paused. Would she be reconciled, by the time the trip would begin, with her new knowledge of where her aunt and uncle’s loyalties lay? Would she be able to find herself in close quarters with them without bitterness and disappointment creeping in?  
  
“I am unsure,” she eventually answered, and it felt as if the gap from her family widened with that acknowledgement.  
  
“Then perhaps it would be better if we took another of your sisters with us instead.”  
  
This was a logical consequence of Elizabeth not going, and perhaps it was fair that her younger sisters got her share of the company of the Gardiners, but she nevertheless felt betrayed by it being voiced aloud. One question remained, though.  
  
“If you care so little for me and my opinions, why did you make that offer in the first place?”  
  
“Is it not obvious?” She did not leave Elizabeth the opportunity to answer before she went on: “Since our educational efforts will be wasted on you, it is better if we direct them towards Mary, before continuing with Kitty and Lydia. I hope they will prove to be less resistant than you at behaving as a proper lady ought.”  
  
On this last barb, Mrs Gardiner left the room.  
  
**Later that day, Gracechurch Street**  
  
Mr Darcy had come to call again and, when he entered, had no choice but to take a seat near Miss Bennet, which did not appear to sit well with her sister. After ten minutes of polite conversation and bland smiles, he reasoned that he had to make his intentions clear and asked for a private word with Miss _Elizabeth_ Bennet. This caught Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet off-guard. Elizabeth blushed, and Maria only giggled and offered to visit the children in the nursery. At this, Mrs Gardiner collected herself and suggested that her niece and Mr Darcy go to Mr Gardiner’s study instead.  
  
While Elizabeth led the way to that room, she wondered at Mr Darcy’s request. She had not expected him to move that fast but reasoned that it was best if they straightened things out before she left for Hertfordshire.  
  
Once they entered the study, an uncomfortable silence followed. Mr Darcy looked at her expectantly, and she fidgeted, not knowing how to begin.  
  
“Miss Bennet, I had been hoping to talk with you this morning.”  
  
When she nodded, he gestured toward a chair, and they both sat. Elizabeth felt a little self-conscious, and it seemed to her that Darcy was less assured that he usually was. The idea that he could be as uncomfortable as she was gave her some courage, and she waited for him to talk. At length, he did.  
  
“I shall give you pain again, I am afraid.”  
  
This was not the opening she had expected. She frowned and turned to have a better look at his exp ****ression, but he was looking intently at a painting on the opposite wall.  
  
“It is my wish that you will allow me to continue to court you, but after having given it more thought, I think you ought to know how bad my opinion of your sister is. No—do not speak now, please. I must tell you the whole story before you decide whether you wish for me to call on you at Longbourn. You remember that, while we were dancing at Netherfield, Sir William came to talk to us about a much desired event—I believe these were his words—that was anticipated by the local society.”  
  
Elizabeth nodded, and he continued.  
  
“Until then, I thought nothing of Bingley's attentions to your sister—it is the same everywhere he goes: he is easily infatuated with any pretty-faced girl and falls out of love as easily. Looking at him, I soon realised that it might be different this time—that his infatuation was not beginning to wane as I had thought. Your sister I also watched—Bingley could do worse than marry a beautiful and kind woman, even if she had dreadful connections and no fortune. I could not discern her heart to be particularly touched—she was pleased with his attentions and undoubtedly flattered, but she did not seem to be in love. Still, that would not have been enough to disapprove of her. However, I then witnessed her smile smugly while Bingley was looking elsewhere. It was not long before I wished for us to be very far away from all things Bennet as fast as we could. Oh, I soon thought otherwise where you were concerned, but at the time I was still angry with you for having taken Wickham's side and trying not to think of you, for I thought I could never have you.”  
  
He looked wistfully at her, but she was now intently staring at the floor in embarrassment, and he went on.  
  
“I retreated to the balcony in order to gather my thoughts. Soon afterwards, your sister and mother also went on the same balcony—they did not see me, and I soon understood that Miss Bennet had led her mother there in order for them to have a quiet conversation—you know that Mrs Bennet was all but discreet during the evening.”  
  
Elizabeth pinched her lips but, mindful of his request, did not interrupt him.  
  
“I should have left, or signalled my presence, but at first I thought they only came for a breath of fresh air. I was unwilling to leave my solitude, and by the time they began to exchange confidences, it was too late. I must also own that their discussion was of certain interest to me, thus I stayed quietly in the shadows and listened to them.”  
  
“How gentlemanly of you,” Elizabeth scoffed.  
  
“I do not regret having done so for one minute—not after hearing them. What was said confirmed my worst fears. Your mother was congratulating Miss Bennet for having caught Bingley—nothing different from what she had already said during supper. As annoying as they were, your mother's ravings were not what interested me. Your sister's reaction to them was, however. You will understand that I had to determine, for my friend's sake, whether she was subscribing to your mother's views or not.”  
  
Elizabeth nodded.  
  
“Her answers were not what I hoped.”  
  
“I have been thinking about that. I do not think Jane would openly contradict my mother, for she dislikes arguments, and she knows that once Mama has something in her mind it is useless to try to convince her she is wrong. Jane would have acquiesced to whatever was said in order to end the conversation.”  
  
“I know what you mean—you met my aunt,” he added with a self-depreciating smile. “Had your sister behaved that way, I do not know what I should have concluded. I should still have doubted her sincerity, I suppose.”  
  
Elizabeth shrugged. “I imagine I cannot blame you for that.”  
  
“However, when she spoke, I _knew_. There was no place for doubt.”  
  
“I do not understand, sir. Jane told me Bingley was everything a gentleman ought to be, and that she liked him very much. She would have told my mother as much, and even if it did reveal that her feelings might not be as engaged as his, why would you conclude that she was _only_ mercenary?”  
  
“It appears that your sister only told you what you wished to hear.”  
  
“What ...” Elizabeth’s brow creased. Darcy quickly put a finger on her lips and dropped it as quickly when she stopped talking.  
  
“She agreed with your mother; wholeheartedly—it was not a polite agreement in order to save herself from a scene. She told your mother that she thought my friend could not be long before proposing, but that she had also seen me looking at her—I believe her precise words were _at last he notices me instead of staring at Lizzy_ —and wondered whether she had a chance to secure me instead, for I was rumoured to be richer than my friend and already owned an estate. In the end she remarked that Bingley had an advantage over me: that of being more easily led. You will understand that I told Bingley that I thought your sister did not return his feelings”  
  
Elizabeth was pale.  
  
“No … you must have misunderstood, misheard! I have come to realise that she was more calculating than I thought her to be, but I cannot imagine her to be so cold, so unfeeling!”  
  
She still could not believe she could have misread Jane so—no, it was more than that. Misreading her interest in their new neighbour was something, but acknowledging she could be so very calculating? How was it possible that she did not know at all her sister, her closest friend? She was so proud of her ability to read people, and yet, if Mr Darcy was right, she had been so wrong on so many accounts, far more than she had thought!  
  
“I am afraid she is. I did not tell Bingley the worst of it.”  
  
“There is _more_?”  
  
“I heard her speculating about the affairs she could have once she had been married for some time.”  
  
Elizabeth was horrified by this additional intelligence. She had paled even further and was gripping the edge of her seat.  
  
“I should have told Bingley this last thing had he persisted in his pursuit, though.”  
  
“And you would have been right—if what you say is true.” Her voice was trembling, and her mind reeling. None of what Darcy said contradicted what she had witnessed, but more than that, it explained a few odd occurrences she had wondered about over time. Oh, at times she had found an explanation for them—possibly as sensible as concluding Darcy looked at her because he despised her, she smiled ruefully—but Darcy's testimony made much more sense.  
  
“I have no reason to lie to you, Miss Bennet.”  
  
She felt like crying. A handkerchief materialised in front of her. She took it and quietly thanked Mr Darcy.  
  
“I know that, sir. I am sorry.”  
  
“What for?”  
  
“Mistrusting you again.”  
  
He covered her hand with his free one. “Miss Bennet, I cannot hold this against you. I _was_ angry at first that day at Hunsford, but as I tried to understand how you could be so wrong about me, I began to see your point of view. Your sincerity, your honesty _are_ things I value about you. Greatly.”  
  
That compliment was unexpected. She could not be insensible to it and felt herself blushing. He saw that, and plunged ahead.  
  
“Do I have a chance, Miss Bennet”?  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Of winning your hand?” Silence. She drew back from him, released his arm, and looked at him.  
  
“There still is something I do not understand: if Jane is so awful, why ask me to be your wife? Why would you wish to align yourself with us? And why did you not consider I could be like her?”  
  
“Because, at the same time I overheard your mother and sister speaking about the latter's prospects, they also talked about you, about how naive you were in thinking Miss Bennet was in love with my friend. I knew then you were different. Still, I did not want to be related to your mother and sister or to give them any consequence. I still do not. But I found that having you at my side is worth it.”  
  
After a short pause, he added: “I still do.”  
  
It was impossible to answer such a comment, thus Elizabeth stayed silent. He mistook her reason for doing so.  
  
“I shall not ask you to cut your ties with your family, though I trust that you will not ask me to host them often.”  
  
She sighed.  
  
“No indeed. I am surprised you would allow me to invite them at all, and I thank you for that, though I am not certain I wish for it at that point. I am disappointed in them, but I love them, and I could not forsake them. But I have another objection: I do not know you at all, that is, I feel I have only begun to learn more about you these past few days.”  
  
“If you want me to provide you with an opportunity to do so, you only have to ask.”  
  
“How could that be accomplished? I am leaving London! Longbourn is not a place where one could simply get to know someone without pressure ...” she sighed again.  
  
“I should not be so sure about Longbourn.”  
  
“Ha. Longbourn would be adequate providing an engagement _is_ to take place in the end. If one is to reject a suitor, it is a very difficult place to live in, and I would rather not repeat the experience.”  
  
He looked curious at this, but she continued.  
  
“And my family is ... well, you know how they are, you certainly shared your point of view,” she finished bitterly.  
  
“I still have some hope that they will be _my_ family someday. Besides, do you think you are the only one to have embarrassing relatives?”  
  
Another silence settled.  
  
“What if I were to introduce you to my sister before you leave London? That way she could simply invite you to spend some time with her—and I shall be there,” he finished with a smile.  
  
“I fear my father will want me home ... but the idea is very tempting.”  
  
“We do not plan to be in Pemberley until July or August—perhaps you could stay at home for enough time to satisfy him and then join us? In any case, I hope you will agree to a correspondence with Georgiana. Another possibility is still in Hertfordshire, but I understand the need for some disguise, though I despise it. I can buy the lease of Netherfield from Bingley. I know he was trying to find someone ...”  
  
“But why would you do that? You would have to give a reason.”  
  
“Doing a friend a service, since he wished to give it up and has not as much funds as I have, would be reason enough. But another explanation is that I wish to be away from town, while needing to be close enough to it to take care of some unfinished business before I retreat to Pemberley for the summer. Netherfield being half a day from London, it suits my purpose. In August, I shall depart—either alone, or with you as my bride.”  
  
“That seems so short!”  
  
“Are you hinting you see a possibility of you deciding in my favour, Miss Bennet?” he smiled slightly.  
  
“Insufferable man!” she huffed, then blushed. She tried to keep her composure, but Darcy noticed her teary eyes and was at a loss to know how to react. He did not understand what caused that outburst, but wished it were in his power to comfort her.  
  
His first impulse was to take her in his arms, but he doubted such a gesture would be well received and settled for holding his handkerchief to her again. Elizabeth managed to thank him, and when she was under good regulation once more, really looked at Darcy, as if she saw him for the first time. He was standing awkwardly and looked at her with concern. She could not believe he really loved her, not when all his objections to the match were so fresh in her mind, but she could not deny anymore that he sincerely cared for her. She wondered if she should simply state that she would be his wife, whenever he wished it.  
  
“I wish my stay here would not come to an end so soon.” She smiled at him, and unlike the ones he previously received, this smile had a certain softness, hinting at shyness and uncertainty. She was still looking at him, and he decided to try his luck.  
  
“Miss Bennet, do I have your permission for calling on you at Longbourn? Or would you rather hide our courtship?”  
  
All of a sudden, the idea of hiding seemed distasteful to Elizabeth.  
  
“I should be happy to receive your calls when I am home, sir.”  
  
He smiled, but she fancied she could also see some disappointment on his face and looked at him inquiringly. On noticing her gaze, he sighed.  
  
“I must not be greedy—but I must own that I _really_ wish you would consent to marry me. Someday.”  
  
“You will not have to wait long, sir.” she said softly.  
  
“Oh? Pray, how much?”  
  
She bit her lip. Was it wise? She thought she had made her decision, but if she shared it with him, there would be no going back. She had not yet seen how Darcy interacted with her mother and sisters, but though she did not expect that he would feel a sudden affinity for her family, she knew he would not be uncivil either.  
  
“You only have to ask, sir.”  
  
He looked at her and saw resolution on her face. Not love—he would have been foolish to expect that. He would still have to win her heart, preferably before their wedding, though with all the well-meaning relatives that would surround them, they might not have the possibility to have real conversations until afterwards.  
“In that case—Elizabeth Bennet, will you marry me?”  
  
“I will, sir.” she seemed a little apprehensive. Had he believed she loved him, he would have taken her in his arms and kissed her lips. As it was, he lifted her hand and softly kissed it, before rising.  
  
“Come, let us join your aunt. Shall I accompany you to Longbourn and ask your father for your hand as soon as we arrive?”  
  
“It might be better if you waited a couple of days before calling. I shall have to prepare him for your visit.”  
  
“Do you wish for us to keep our understanding a secret for now?” he asked with a frown.  
  
“Not exactly, but perhaps we could tell the others that you asked to call on me? It _is_ the truth, after all, if not the _whole_ truth.”  
  
Darcy nodded and led her to the drawing-room, where he took his leave of the ladies. Once he was gone, Elizabeth shared her news, but felt only Maria was genuinely happy for her. Though they were all sweetness and delight, Mrs Gardiner and Jane made Elizabeth uneasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation Darcy has overheard has been written a while ago; if there is some interest, I may post it once I'm done with posting this story.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Bennet carriage, on a Hertfordshire road, early May**  
  
More than once, before they had reached the George, Elizabeth had thanked Heaven for the presence of Maria Lucas. Given the looks she received from Jane, only the younger girl’s presence had saved her from an inquisition and not a couple of harsh words. Well, harsh for Jane, but they would have been unsettling all the same. Her aunt’s lecture regarding the proper deportment that should be expected of her and would lead to a proposal had been disturbing enough.  
  
The three ladies were met at the inn not only by Longbourn’s driver, but also by Kitty and Lydia, who appeared the same exuberant young ladies as they were when Elizabeth left, which was, in a way, of some comfort for their sister. They had much gossip to share, and half of their stories revolved around Mr Wickham. They talked about that officer with both animation and admiration, and Elizabeth, frowning, was searching for a way to warn her sisters against him which would not lead to revelations regarding the Darcys, when Jane spoke.  
  
“Kitty, Lydia, you would do well to forget Mr Wickham. There would be nothing to gain in displeasing Mr Darcy when a lowly officer has nothing to offer to you.”  
  
“That horrible Mr Darcy is the one responsible for poor Mr Wickham’s misfortunes!” Lydia exclaimed.  
  
“Who cares for Mr Darcy?” added Kitty, “He is long gone!”  
  
“But he will be back,” giggled Maria. “He asked to call on Lizzy.”  
  
“On _Lizzy_? La, what a good joke!”  
  
“It is true, Lydia. He called on her when we were on Gracechurch Street, and before that while he was at Rosings and my sister at Hunsford.”  
  
Lydia wrinkled her nose. “Better that he calls on her than on me. Still, I do not see why it should prevent me from flirting with dear Mr Wickham.”  
  
“Well,” her sister interjected, “ _you_ will flirt with Mr Wickham, and _I_ shall have the other officers’ attentions.”  
  
“La! They only look at you when there are too many of them around me.”  
  
“This is not true!” cried an indignant Kitty.  
  
“Yes it is!”  
  
“In that case,” interjected Elizabeth, “it does not signify that you distance yourself from Mr Wickham.”  
  
Lydia paused and conceded that it did not. Though Elizabeth’s intervention had put an end to the quarrel, it redirected her sisters’ attention towards her news.  
  
“How come Mr Darcy will call on you? I thought you disliked him!”  
  
“He is very rich, Lydia—think of all the jewels and pin-money Lizzy will have!”  
  
“Still, he is so disagreeable. I should not want to be rich if it is to find myself married to a bore.”  
  
“I found Mr Darcy improved upon acquaintance,” Elizabeth protested.  
  
“You would say that, of course.”  
  
“Mr Darcy has not proposed to Lizzy yet,” cautioned Jane.  
  
“He will,” said Lydia with the absolute certainty of youth. “Otherwise why would he follow her to Longbourn?”  
  
There was nothing to reply to that, and Lydia soon launched herself in the retelling of the latest evening they had had with Mrs Forster, which involved Mr Wickham and some other officers, one of them in a gown.  
  
**Longbourn, later that same day**  
  
When they alighted from the carriage, Elizabeth went at once to see her father. She would rather have delayed her news by one day but felt certain that Lydia would not keep silent on the subject.  
  
Mr Bennet was even more surprised than his daughter had thought. Elizabeth did not appreciate being thought _out of her senses_ and felt disheatened when her father, despite the fact she told him of her appreciation for Darcy’s character, appeared convinced that only monetary interest had convinced him to accept his suit. Perhaps it would have been different had she been able to tell her father she loved Darcy. In the end, Mr Bennet gave her his word that, should Mr Darcy ask for her hand, and should she not have changed her mind, he would grant the gentleman his consent. His last words before she went entreated her to think better of her decision, for he thought Elizabeth would not be happy with someone she could not esteem.  
  
Elizabeth left her father’s book-room and mused on this prediction. She found it quite accurate, for it accounted for her dissatisfaction with her life at Longbourn. A few more moments of reflection allowed her to feel sure, at least, of her respect for Mr Darcy, and thus of her chances of happiness in a marriage with him. On entering her bedroom, she encountered her mother, who was supervising the unpacking of her trunks.  
  
“Lizzy! Where were you? Lydia told me your news, and I had Jane confirm them. Your gowns are tolerable, but I think you should have a new one or two. Oh, my dear girl! Mrs Darcy, how well that sounds!”  
  
“Mama—”  
  
“Yes, yes, I know, he hasn’t proposed yet, but he certainly will. I shall make sure he has the opportunity to do so. Ten thousand a year! So handsome! So tall!”  
  
Suddenly, she stopped.  
  
“Do you think he will overlook my having disliked him before?”  
  
“I am not quite sure he noticed that,” Elizabeth answered. _He was too busy cataloguing your faults_. That thought saddened her, perhaps more so because he had not been wrong in his assessment of her family.  
  
“What a relief! Oh, dear Lizzy! A house in town! A daughter married! I shall go distracted. You must throw Jane and Lydia—indeed, all of your sisters!—in the path of rich men; I fear my brother did nothing to forward any acceptable matches for Jane while she was with them.”  
  
“He did,” countered Elizabeth. “Jane had some callers when we were in London.”  
  
“None of the first circles, I’m sure!”  
  
“None came to call on her, but she did obtain introductions to some gentlemen.”  
  
“I am sure that this was not your uncle’s doing.”  
  
Elizabeth conceded that the men in question had been Mr Darcy’s friends.  
  
“Well, then, she will meet them again once you are married.”  
  
“We are not yet engaged, Mama.” _Since he has not asked Papa for his consent._  
  
“Tsk!” said Mrs Bennet. “When he calls, you will make sure he proposes. Don’t look at me like that! Men must be, shall we say, _encouraged_. I shall endeavour to give you as much time alone as I can, and a _little_ impropriety on your part would not be amiss,” she added with a wink.  
  
“Mama!”  
  
“How else is he to know you are interested? Besides, in a marriage, you have only yourself to offer, so you must give him a hint of what he is to gain. Had you a dowry, or connections, he would easily be able to look them up; this is not the case, you have to help him along.”  
  
Mrs Bennet then left her speechless daughter to see to household matters.  
  
That conversation left Elizabeth bittersweet, though less so than the one she had had with her father, since she and her mother had rarely seen eye to eye. She knew, from the conversation Mr Darcy had reported to her, that Mrs Bennet was aware of Jane’s social-climbing plans and had likely encouraged her; her now currying favour with the daughter she least understood must be in order to gain something for her favourites. Still, her mother was not someone who knew how to dissemble, and Elizabeth could see that she was genuinely happy with her news in general, and for her in particular—maybe for the wrong reasons, but happy nonetheless, which Elizabeth could not say of her other sisters nor of her father.  
  
**Meryton, the following day**  
  
Elizabeth’s opinion that she was her mother’s new favourite was confirmed. Suddenly, she could say or do no wrong, and all her favourite dishes appeared on the table. This garnered her, occasionnally, a glare from her sisters—Lydia did _not_ like being told that Elizabeth would be the only one to get new dresses.  
  
While she was with her mother in Meryton, they saw Mr Wickham as they left the modiste’s shop. Before he could approach them, Mrs Bennet had led her daughter away. It appeared that Jane’s opinion that one should give the cold shoulder to the enemies of one’s admirer’s was learned at the feet of their mother.  
  
“Lizzy,” she said once they were in the carriage on their way back to Longbourn, “no matter how much you liked Mr Wickham in the past, you must forget him. Do not frown like that—you will get wrinkles. You must see that it is unwise to keep your friendship with a man your suitor dislikes. Now that I had the time to think about the matter, I believe Mr Wickham must be in the wrong somehow. Mr Darcy is such a charming gentleman! I cannot fathom how one could speak ill of him.”  
  
Elizabeth chose not to remind her mother of her previous opinion of the gentleman and instead promised she would endeavour to avoid Mr Wickham. Mrs Bennet nodded with satisfaction and launched herself into the description of what courses would be served at the wedding breakfast and of all the details that would make that event one not soon forgotten in the neighbourhood’s memories.  
  
**Longbourn, a couple of days later**  
  
Mr Darcy had arrived as planned and went straight to Mr Bennet’s study. Shortly afterwards, Elizabeth was summoned by her father, and after ascertaining his daughter had not changed her mind, he gave them, with a shrug, his consent to marry. The young couple decided to seal their union as soon as they could after having bought a license. During those weeks, Darcy would reside at Netherfield, as Mr Bingley, rather than selling the lease to his friend, had offered to open the house for him. Darcy’s valet had gone ahead to Netherfield with his master’s things, and the gentleman found himself at leisure that afternoon. On learning this, Mrs Bennet entreated him to stay with the family until after dinner. A note was dispatched to Netherfield so that a servant could come with a change of clothes in time for the meal.  
  
“Now, Mr Darcy,” his hostess asked affter the social niceties had been dealt with, “what news have you of Mr Bingley?”  
  
“He is currently in Bath, madam, along with his sisters.”  
  
“Will they come back in time for the wedding?”  
  
“They will not.”  
  
Mrs Bennet frowned.  
  
“When do you think he will be back? We have a standing invitation for him, you know.”  
  
“I cannot say, Mrs Bennet. To tell the truth, he did not give me the impression that he would return at all.”  
  
At this Mrs Bennet appeared disappointed.  
  
“Will anyone in your family coming? Your sister? I believe your uncle is an Earl—will one of your cousins attend?”  
  
“No. They could not leave London at that time and will receive us later, when I bring Elizabeth back to London. As for my sister, she is not yet out, and making her leave her masters and bringing her here only to have her miss most of the parties you have planned would be absurd.”  
  
“Oh, of course! I know how frustrating it was for Lydia when her sisters were out and she was not; this is why she was allowed to join them a little earlier. It was too cruel to have her miss all the fun! She is very pleased with this decision, for she would not have met Mrs Forster otherwise, and the two have become particular friends. Why, she has even been allowed to accompany them to Brighton!”  
  
“Has she?” interjected Elizabeth. “I did not know that.”  
  
“The note came when you were with your father. She has gone to the Lucases to share her good fortune with Maria. Your sisters have gone out with her; Kitty is somewhat disappointed, of course, but she will recover soon enough.”  
  
“Is it wise to allow her to travel alone?” said Elizabeth cautiously.  
  
“She will not be alone; Mrs Forster will be with her. Besides, Mr Darcy just said that no one of consequence would come for your wedding.”  
  
“I did not quite say that, Mrs Bennet.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
The gleam in the lady’s eye made Darcy regret having corrected her.  
  
“A couple of friends from Cambridge are likely to come, one of them—Sir Nicholas Harcourt, you met him, Elizabeth—has accepted to be my witness.”  
  
“Did that gentleman meet Jane also?”  
  
“Yes madam, he was introduced to her, as was Mr Wilson who might also come.”  
  
“But they didn’t call on her afterwards?”  
  
“No madam.”  
  
“Oh. Well, maybe Lydia can catch their eye … but no, she would like to have fun with the officers in Brighton.” Elizabeth repressed a shudder and was pleasantly surprised when her mother went on. “I did tell her, though, that she should not expect to _marry_ an officer. Flirting and dancing and laughing are very good, but unless she is introduced to a colonel with seven or eight thousand a year, she should not think about something more serious.”  
  
“That is quite wise, madam,” was the diplomatic answer she received.  
  
**Longbourn’s gardens, two days later**  
  
Mrs Bennet had enquired further about Mr Darcy’s friends—she was excited to learn that one was a baronet whom Jane had already met, while the other, whose father had the bad taste to be in perfect health, was of lesser interest—and, during one of those conversations, Elizabeth’s mind had drifted away. On her side, not everyone was to be present either. The Gardiners were to stay in London, and for this she was grateful. The person for whom she longed most, Charlotte Collins, would also be absent. Elizabeth had received an apologetic letter from her friend, in which Mrs Collins explained that her husband feared that either of them attending the ceremony would incite the wrath of Lady Catherine, who was apparently not yet reconciled to the union.  
  
As for the rest of Darcy’s family, they had learned about his engagement through letters and had responded likewise. Their reaction had been tepid at best, but they were, if not exactly _welcoming_ of Elizabeth, at least not opposed to her. His uncle the Earl wrote that he had heard about Elizabeth from his sons and invited them to visit after their marriage.  
  
Elizabeth resolved to entreat her betrothed to mend fences with his aunt. Her ladyship had, on learning of their engagement, expressed her displeasure in a letter which her nephew found so offensive that he was determined to cut ties with her. However, it made no sense to alienate yet another family member when her own connections, from whom she felt more detached as measure as the days went, were amongst the points of contention.  
  
When Mrs Bennet sent the young people for a walk in the gardens before dinner, Elizabeth decided to use that occasion to speak to her betrothed regarding her musings. She waited until they were out of hearing from the house to begin.  
  
“I was thinking about your aunt earlier.”  
  
“Lady Catherine?”  
  
“The very one. I know you are unhappy with her now, but she may come to rethink her position, especially when she learns that her brother will not follow her.”  
  
“Elizabeth! She spared you not an insult!”  
  
“You did not show me the letter,” his betrothed answered with a shrug. “Besides, I have another motive in wishing that relationship to be mended. Charlotte Lucas—Collins—was, after Jane, my best friend. Our friendship suffered since she married Mr Collins—I could not understand how she would agree to marry him when she is so superior to him—and now that I cannot trust Jane anymore, I should like to retain a correspondance with her, and possibly visit her. It will not be feasible, or at least not easily done, as long as we are at odds with Lady Catherine. I do not need for her to love me; indifference would suffice.” After a pause, she added with a smile. “Given the state of my relationship with the Gardiners, you can safely assure her that the shades of Pemberley will by no means be polluted by Cits.”  
  
He shook his head, but she thought she saw him stifle a smile.  
  
“Please? I do not know if this will be enough to placate her ladyship, but I should like to make the attempt.”  
  
“As you wish,” he said, and left her to write to his aunt.  
  
**A carriage leaving Longbourn, early June**  
  
The wedding had been lovely, and the wedding breakfast exquisite, moreso since none of her famly members had embarrassed her—perhaps this was due to Lydia’s absence and Mrs Bennet’s pride as a hostess. Elizabeth longed to see Pemberley, but it was not to be their first destination.  
  
The Gardiners’ plans for the summer had been modified, for Mr Gardiner had to leave London later than he had hoped. They would not have the time to go to the Lake District, thus they and Mary would travel to Derbyshire instead. When Darcy asked Elizabeth for her opinion about their own plans, she told him that she had meant it when she had said she would prefer not to receive her relatives, which would not be easily done should they happen on their doorstep. Perhaps her feelings regarding her family would became less raw with time, but, for now, she did not wish to have anything to do with any of them. To London, therefore, they were to go. They would stay a couple of weeks, perhaps as long as one month, before slowly making their way to Pemberley, where they would arrive once the Gardiners were back in Longbourn.  
  
Things did not happen _exactly_ as they had planned.  
  
**An elegant town-house in Mayfair, a couple of days afterwards**  
  
The Earl of —— had, as promised, held a family dinner in order to welcome Elizabeth into the family. What Darcy—and, consequently, Elizabeth—had _not_ expected was that he would have invited his sister, and that she, in turn, would have accepted his invitation.  
  
“Though we are not in public, I have been told to behave,” she said by way of greetings. A glare accompanied her words.  
  
After a slight hesitation, Elizabeth enquired after Miss de Bourgh.  
  
“She arrived with me today, but the journey has exceedingly fatigued her and she is resting at present. She may come to greet you after the dinner. You will be happy to know that the Collinses are quite well,” her ladyship tersely went on. “Mrs Collins has been feeling poorly of late, but I trust it will not last. I left instructions to their cook to that effect.”  
  
Elizabeth quietly thanked her for her intelligence, and they were called for dinner. It was a stilted affair, and Elizabeth, wary of offending her new relatives with an ill-placed witticism, stayed more silent than was her wont. This did not pass unnoticed from Lady Catherine.  
  
“Mrs Darcy! I liked you well enough at Rosings; what happened to change you into a colourless little person?”  
  
“Then you were wholly unconnected to me, your ladyship.”  
  
“That we are connected now should you preclude you from speaking your mind. Quite the reverse, actually! Where Miss Elizabeth Bennet had no business giving her opinions decidedly, it is expected of Mrs Darcy of Pemberley.”  
  
“I shall remember that, Lady Catherine.”  
  
“See that you do! I shall be most put out otherwise!”  
  
Afterwards, all appeared to breathe more easily. At one point, Lady Catherine, noting that Elizabeth was back to her former self, thought that she would comment on it.  
  
“You will do tolerably well, Mrs Darcy,” her ladyship said with a sniff.  
  
“I am sure I shall,” answered Elizabeth with a smile while her husband endeavoured not to choke on his wine.  
  
**Darcy’s house in London, the following day**  
  
Her Ladyship had called on Mrs Darcy as early as propriety allowed it, and a still surprised Elizabeth told her husband when he came back from his meeting that their plans had been slightly altered. Lady Catherine, on learning that they would not be at Pemberley before the end of August, had decreed they would all, along with Miss Darcy, leave for her brother’s estate in ——shire, where she herself was to go for the month of July. Once there, she would teach Elizabeth all she needed to know about her new place in the world. Before their departure, she would accompany Elizabeth for several trips on Bond Street—for the newly-minted Mrs Darcy needed to supplement her wardrobe but would not know the best shops.  
  
Elizabeth found her patience spread thin during that month, but both her decision to reconcile with Lady Catherine and that lady’s encouragement of her talking back allowed her to keep her temper in check.


	6. Chapter 6

**Derbyshire, early August**  
  
The Gardiners and Mary had toured Derbyshire and admired many of its beauties. They were now approaching Lambton, the town in the neighbourhood of Pemberley, where Mrs Gardiner had spent some of her childhood.  
  
“Do you think Lizzy is there now?” asked Mary at dinner.  
  
“I am not sure. I sent her a letter when our travel plans were altered, but her answer hinted that they may not be at home when we were to arrive.”  
  
“Perhaps their plans were already set, and they were not certain they could alter them in order to host us,” said Mr Gardiner. “I suggest that we go to Pemberley. If our niece is here, she will invite us to stay; if not, we shall be able to see her husband’s estate. Who knows when we shall have the occasion to travel there again?”  
  
“Who knows indeed,” said Mrs Gardiner with a sigh. “Lizzy was not very happy with us when we last saw her.”  
  
“That girl is not resentful for long,” her husband replied. “She will have forgiven you.”  
  
“She would do well to not stay angry forever,” Mary interjected, “and likewise we shall not hold her iniquities against her.”  
  
The Gardiners looked at each other, but since Mary’s platitude fitted the circumstance sufficiently well, they said nothing. She was not yet someone who would not make them blush on occasion, but if she gained only  a little more polish, they felt reasonably certain that they could introduce her to their acquaintances in London. Hopefully, she would not be as difficult to marry off as Jane turned out to be.  
  
The following day, they presented themselves at Pemberley, where they were received by the housekeeper. She told them that the family was absent until the end of August and offered them a tour of some of the rooms, which was accepted with alacrity.  
  
They expressed their admiration of the rooms and the art, but it was not merely restricted to the looks of what they saw. Mrs Reynolds could not help but hear their estimations of the monetary value of the furniture, as well as their speculations regarding Mr Darcy’s character. She had been about to champion her master’s qualities, when a remark about “Lizzy’s happiness” made her pause.  
  
“Excuse me, sir, to whom are you referring?”  
  
“My niece, the former Elizabeth Bennet,” said the man with a smile and a wink. Mrs Reynolds refrained from frowning, but it was a short call. This attitude reminded her too much of that of George Wickham, always trying to charm his way in people’s good graces, and _that_ gentleman did not turn out very well.  
  
“Mr Darcy did marry a Miss Bennet recently,” she answered in an even voice.  
  
“That he did—our little Lizzy,” said the woman with a fond smile. Mrs Reynolds hesitantly smiled back before resuming her walk.  
  
“I still think she took the commandment to leave her father and mother too literally,” the girl added under her breath when she apparently thought Mrs Reynolds could not overhear her anymore. She could. The housekeeper’s hearing was remarkably fine.  
  
“Your sister knows where her bread is buttered,” her uncle muttered back. “Her husband would not want her to have many contacts with your parents, so she must agree.”  
  
“What she gains is worth it,” added Mrs Gardiner. “And, in time, this will be to our advantage.”  
  
No, Mrs Reynolds was not impressed by the new Mrs Darcy’s family. As the visit continued, punctuated by thoughtless remarks and, sometimes, indiscreet questions to which she would not answer, she began to worry about her new mistress. She did not know that anyone was good enough for Mr Darcy, and the visitors’ remarks did nothing to assuage her fears that her master had had his head turned by a pretty face without substance or, worse, been manipulated by a fortune-hunter.  
  
**Pemberley, late August**  
  
The Darcys had arrived at Pemberley the day before; Miss Darcy reacquainted herself with the music room, Mrs Darcy was talking with Cook, and Mr Darcy was working in his office, when someone knocked on the door.  
  
“Mr Darcy? I wondered if I could speak to you.”  
  
“Mrs Reynolds, please come in. I shall have someone fetch Mrs Darcy.”  
  
“I would rather you did not, sir.”  
  
Darcy frowned. “What is the matter, Reynolds?”  
  
“It is about Mrs Darcy’s family, sir.”  
  
“Ah,” he said, relaxing. “We wondered whether the Gardiners would stop at Pemberley. A fashionable couple a little older than I am, accompanied by a young lady about Mrs Darcy’s age?”  
  
Mrs Reynolds nodded and appeared unsure of what to say, which prompted Darcy to add: “Must I understand that what you have to say is not complimentary?”  
  
“You … do not appear surprised, sir.”  
  
Darcy sighed.  
  
“I should have been surprised had they made a spotless impression. Maybe we should spare Mrs Darcy this for now. Tell me what you saw.”  
  
“They seemed very genteel, sir, but I didn’t quite like the questions they asked. It appeared as if they were cataloguing your weatlh, and that niece of theirs …”  
  
“I cannot quite remember who they took with them. Was she coughing and giggling, or moralising and frowning?”  
  
“The latter, sir.”  
  
Darcy nodded. “Did she play on Miss Darcy’s new pianoforte?”  
  
“She would not have dared!” cried Mrs Reynolds with a gasp.  
  
“I fear she would have, at one time. Perhaps her relatives have managed to instil some decorum into her.”  
  
Mrs Reynolds endeavoured to regain her composure. It appeared Mr Darcy was not blind to the fact his wife’s family was ghastly. Why, then, had he married her? He asked her an additional couple of questions about what the visitors had said, and her answers confirmed that the Gardiners liked Mrs Darcy more for her new position in society than for her qualities. Mrs Reynolds privately wondered whether, apart from being pretty, she possessed much of these. At last, her employer sighed.  
  
“Thank you, Reynolds, you may go.”  
  
The housekeeper left the study more convinced than ever that her master must have been blind to his new wife’s faults, though perhaps, if his sighs were an indication, he was beginning to become aware of them. Her decision to be wary of the new Mrs Darcy held—so strong was her conviction that he must have been taken in by a clever schemer that she might have persisted in her belief even if Mr Darcy had thought to mention that his wife was not the same kind of person her relatives were.  
  
**Mrs Darcy’s dressing-room, later that day**  
  
On enquiring after his wife’s whereabouts, Darcy was told she had retired to her appartments. The door connecting their bedroom to her dressing-room was open, and he knocked on it as he crossed the threshold. She looked up and set aside the letter she had been reading.  
  
“I hope I do not disturb you?”  
  
“Not at all,” she said, rising to meet him.  
  
“Will you not finish reading your letters?” Darcy said, indicating the letter she had just put down.  
  
“It was the last one,” she answered with a shrug, “and I am not of a mind to pay attention to my mother’s demands tonight.”  
  
“Did you receive a letter from the Gardiners?”  
  
“Yes.” She sighed. “My aunt told me they visited Pemberley and are now fishing for an invitation. She hinted—no, it was not even a hint. She outright told me that she would love touring your park in a phaeton.”  
  
“Elizabeth—”  
  
“I do not want to invite them. Not now, not later. We may not be able to avoid them completely, but … would it be stange if I were to limit my contacts with them now that we are married?”  
  
She was looking at him with pleading eyes.  
  
“Not at all. I am, after all, known for being unwiling to mingle with the lesser classes of society.”  
  
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, and Darcy smiled.  
  
“If people notice it, they will assume that _I_ was the one who restricted your contact with your family. No gossip will spread from it, I am confident of this.”  
  
Elizabeth relaxed.  
  
“You _were_ holding yourself above us while in Hertfordshire. I imagine Miss Bingley did not shy away from telling her friends how unfashionable she found us all.”  
  
“I should not know. She soon learned that disparaging you in my hearing would not endear her to me.”  
  
“Would not Mr Bingley or one of your acquaintances have had wind of such talk and informed you?”  
  
“Not necessarily. They know I do not care for gossip.”  
  
“One glare from you will silence them on any subject for ever?”  
  
His eyes narrowed. She giggled.  
  
“I am afraid, sir, that glowering at me does not—”  
  
It appeared that Darcy had found a much more efficient—and agreeable—way to make his wife stop teasing him.  
  
**Pemberley, the following days**  
  
Georgiana Darcy, on first meeting the new Mrs Darcy, had been all ready to admire the lady, for she looked up to her brother and felt he could not chose wrongly. However, she was soon unsettled by her new sister’s teasing manners. Her husband did not seem to mind them, but Georgiana was certain that, had she acted in such a way, a frown rather than a smile would have been on his face!  
  
Elizabeth, in turn, felt difficulty in opening up to Miss Darcy. They had different tempers and did not share a common history; Elizabeth thought these obstacles could have been easily overcome, had Miss Darcy not reminded her so much of Jane—or rather, of the person she thought Jane had been. Georgiana Darcy, for all Elizabeth could tell, was a shy, agreeable, kind young lady. Consequently, Elizabeth kept fearing the discovery of a not so shining aspect to her character. However, because the girl obviously adored her brother, she decided to make an effort to get along with her.  
  
It was easy for Elizabeth to see that Georgiana was genuine, for the girl was as open in her behaviour as Lydia, who could never keep anything from anyone. Georgiana’s fears were not so easily put to rest, for she could see that Elizabeth did not seem to return her brother’s love.  
  
Some days after they had reached Pemberley, while everyone was otherwise occupied, she had found herself alone with Mrs Reynolds.  
  
“I am so glad to be back at Pemberley. Do you think that, now he is married, my brother will stay here more often?”  
  
“It will depend upon Mrs Darcy’s preferences.”  
  
“My sister was eager to come here, surely she will not wish to leave.”  
  
The housekeeper did not answer, and looking at her, Georgiana could not discern her thoughts. She was reminded of the previous evening. Mrs Reynolds had been deferential towards Elizabeth Darcy, but there was some coldness in her manners. Did she know something Georgiana ignored, either regarding her new mistress or the manner in which the marriage came to be? Was Elizabeth a fortune-hunter? Had her brother been somehow deceived? Oh, he appeared happy, but it did not follow that his wife was not self-interested.  
  
“Mrs Reynolds?”  
  
“Miss Darcy.”  
  
“What is wrong?”  
  
That blank face again. “I do not see what you mean.”  
  
“Yes you do. You do not like Mrs Darcy—or at least, you are wary of her. Must I worry for my brother?”  
  
The housekeeper hesitated. She glanced around and, on seeing that they were alone, closed the door.  
  
“Mrs Darcy is not the kind of lady I expected Mr Darcy to marry.”  
  
“You always say that you did not know who was good enough for my brother to marry,” objected Georgiana, “thus it is logical that he married someone you did not know.”  
  
Mrs Reynolds warred with herself for a time, and eventually spoke.  
  
“I met some of her relatives this summer. _They_ did not strike me as people Mr Darcy would like to acknowledge as family.”  
  
“Oh. I … I do not think we shall see them often,” said Georgiana slowly. “I think that my brother knew about their trip to Derbyshire and made our travel plans in consequence. Mrs Darcy did not object, nor did she appear unhappy with the decision.”  
  
Mrs Reynolds felt relieved but did not comment more on that point.  
  
“I suppose,” she said instead, “that I shall know more about her good qualities when I know her more. Your sister has learned how to manage a house and has applied to me to teach her the particularities of Pemberley, which counts in her favour.”  
  
“Would that not be the expected thing to do?”  
  
“It would, but someone interesed only in material comforts would merely ask me for monthly reports and trust me to carry out her orders. Oh, she will be doing this,” the housekeeper added on seeing Georgiana’s puzzled frown. “However, she also expressed the wish to know how things are run; she said she would endeavour not to demand anything that could not be accomplished easily.”  
  
Georgiana nodded and went to the music room, which had been entirely redecorated earlier this spring—she did not know whether it had been done for Elizabeth or for herself, since the room was to the tastes of both, but it did not preclude her enjoyment in playing.  
  
Soon, Mrs Reynolds’s concerns had abated. More than seeing Elizabeth Darcy slowly taking her place as mistress of the house, what made her win Mrs Reynolds’s loyalty was the way she deported herself with the Darcy siblings. She was attentive to her husband’s well-being, and the housekeeper had not seen him as happy in a long time. She did not negelect her sister-in-law either, though that relationship was less easy, for they had different personalities.  
  
Miss Darcy, likewise, saw enough to be convinced that her fears had been baseless. Whatever the reasons behind their marriage were, it was obvious to Georgiana that Elizabeth cared for her husband’s happiness. Maybe she had not much in common with her sister-in-law, but wishing for the happiness of Fitzwilliam Darcy was one of them, and their being at odds would not be conducive to that happiness. Miss Darcy thus left her apprehensions to one side and made her best efforts to get along with Mrs Darcy. As the latter was endeavouring to do the same, the ladies came soon to truly appreciate each other.  
  
**Pemberley, early September**  
  
Darcy had received an invitation from his friend Alexander Wilson for a hunting party in Sussex, in October. He and Elizabeth had decided that Georgiana would stay in town with Mrs Annesley, a friend of the late Lady Anne with whom the young girl had lived when she had been in London the past year. Miss Darcy would resume her music and painting lessons with her masters. Darcy also expressed the wish to travel to Netherfield and hunt there for a week or two with Bingley before his friend gave up the lease. On seeing Elizabeth’s dismayed glance, he elaborated.  
  
“Elizabeth, there will be talk if we do not visit your family on our way to London.”  
  
“There would be talk, but it would be soon forgotten,” his wife answered with a pout. “Moreover, why would you go shooting at Netherfield if you are to do the same with your friends?”  
  
“I do like hunting by myself as well,” he countered with a smile, “but in this case the hunt would be an excuse to stay at Netherfield rather than Longbourn, which would not be possible should we postpone our visit—and you know that we shall have to visit sometime. It would also allow me to see Bingley again, for he will not be at the Wilsons’.”  
  
“I thought he was also a friend of Mr Wilson?”  
  
“He is, but Mrs Wilson is determined not to have his sister in her son’s vicinity if she can help it—at least until he or she marries—and Bingley is too mild-mannered to insist that she is left behind. I believe he has instead accepted an invitation from the Grantleys, whose daughter is a friend of Miss Bingley’s.”  
  
“Would this Miss Grantley be a good match for him?”  
  
“On paper, maybe. I doubt, however, that he would be happy with her. Since he never paid her much attention in the past, I am not worried that his sister’s plan will come to fruition.”  
  
Elizabeth stayed silent some moments before saying, with a side glance to Georgiana when the latter did not look: “I thought her plans laid in another direction?”  
  
Darcy’s eyes widened, but he did not answer. They spoke about travel arrangements, until Miss Darcy decided to practice her pianoforte. Her brother went to his study, and was surprised when his wife followed him there.  
  
“Elizabeth?”  
  
“You did not think you could escape me, did you?”  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
“Your sister and Mr Bingley.”  
  
“Where did you hear such a thing?”  
  
“Nowhere.” Her husband frowned. “I read it.”  
  
“Pardon me?”  
  
“In the note she sent on leaving Netherfield last autumn, Miss Bingley waxed eloquent about the admiration your friend had for Miss Darcy and shared her hopes for a future connection to your family. I thought that, though she _did_ entertain such an idea, she was mostly endeavouring to discourage Jane. Besides, your sister is not yet out, thus too young for Mr Bingley to consider.”  
  
Elizabeth did not quite know what she expected from her husband, but his silence was a surprise.  
  
“Mr Darcy?”  
  
“He is not so much older than she is,” he eventually said. “They are only seven years apart, as are we.”  
  
Elizabeth stared at him. “You _do_ wish for the connection?”  
  
“He would make a good husband for her, were he still unattached when she comes out.”  
  
“You told me he easily falls in and out of love, which makes this situation likely.”  
  
“Or unlikely,” countered Darcy. “If he finds himself in love with a lady for a little more time than is his custom, his impulsivity may lead him to propose. Had I not been able to vouch for your sister’s lack of feelings for him, I am sure he would have come back to Hertfordshire and made her an offer.”  
  
He paused a moment before continuing.  
  
“Of course, this may mean that he would not offer for Georgiana unless he falls in love with her and his regard is returned.”  
  
“Would you mind it very much if he did not?”  
  
“No. I wish for my friend and my sister to be happy. Whether it will be together or not is not ours to decide. Had Bingley decided that he did not mind your sister’s indifference and proposed to her nonetheless, I should have endeavoured to be happy for him.”  
  
They fell into a pensive yet companionable silence.  
  
**Hertfordshire, mid-september**  
  
Soon, too soon according to Elizabeth, they were at Netherfield. Much to her displeasure, the Bennet ladies descended upon them the day after their arrival. Miss Darcy was able to witness first-hand their impropriety, and could understand how Mrs Reynolds, after having met one of them, had needed time before warming up to the new Mrs Darcy. There was an exception to that rule, for Miss Bennet seemed everything that was proper and lovely. Elizabeth, though, was rather reserved towards her, much like she had been towards Georgiana herself, and the young lady wondered what it could mean.  
  
The youngest Bennet daughter, Lydia, was full of tales from Brighton. She had spent some months there with a friend who had married a Colonel in the Militia—Georgiana wondered why the wife of a superior officer would find herself a friend in so silly a person as Lydia. Perhaps the girl had hidden qualities, but Miss Darcy could not discern what they could be. Happy to find an audience that did not hear them before, the youngest Bennet daughter recited them again with delight. Balls, flirtations, sea-bathing: all of this, and more, were retold between giggles. A piece of gossip made Georgiana start, but in the disorder of the room it went unnoticed.  
  
George Wickham had been in the Militia, had been admired by the Bennet ladies, and had deserted his post.  
  
“They spoke of gambling debts and seductions! Can you imagine?” Lydia giggled. “I am sure that he was quite in love with me, you know, and had I wished it, he would have carried me away with him—how romantic it would have been! But I deserve better than a lowly officer. And I suppose it would not do to begin a marriage with nothing with debts,” she added as an afterthought.  
  
Georgiana was never so grateful to Elizabeth than when she redirected the conversation. Later that evening, she confirmed that Darcy had told her, long ago, about her indiscretion; Georgiana was relieved on realising that her sister in law directed all the blame towards Wickham; it also appeared that she nursed some resentment against the man for having made a fool of herself in believing some tales he had spun against her brother. His name, after this day, was never spoken between them, nor did they ever hear anything about the man again.  
  
The Hertfordshire company was trying, and when it was time for them to depart for London, the only ones whom the Darcys were sorry to leave behind were Miss Lucas and her sister Mrs Collins, who had come to visit her parents. The latter they could see again whenever they went to Rosings, and Charlotte promised she would endeavour to make her sister’s occasional visits overlap with theirs.  
  
**A road in Sussex, early October**  
  
Georgiana had been left in London with Mrs Annesley, and Darcy and Elizabeth had continued to the Wilsons’ estate.  
  
“Tell me again about the Wilsons,” Elizabeth asked her husband on their second day of travel. “I am sure you must have done so before, but all I can remember is that he is one of the friends whom you usually meet in London.”  
  
“Yes. His father owns an estate near Chichester,” he added for the pleasure of seeing her huff.  
  
“I should never have thought I should sound like my mother,” she said with a pout, “but you truly take delight in vexing me!”  
  
Her husband chuckled, and she came back to her enquiries.  
  
“Does your friend have siblings?”  
  
“Two or three younger sisters, only one of whom is out.”  
  
“Do the Wilsons subscribe to the theory that a girl ought not to be out before her elder sisters are married?”  
  
“I do not believe so. Miss Wilson must be a little younger than you are.”  
  
Elizabeth nodded. “So, your Mr Wilson is his father’s heir?”  
  
“He is. His father would rather stay in the country and has entrusted him with the family business that has to be managed in London.”  
  
“Thus allowing his son’s youthful dissipation to happen far from the people whose well-being will be his responsiblility someday?”  
  
“Elizabeth! … That is … perhaps it might have factored in the decision, but as far as I understand, Wilson’s father did not want his heir to stay idle and mindlessly spend his allowance. In order to induce him to be attentive to his duties more than to his entertainment, he made the amount of his allowance dependant on his results.”  
  
“That arrangement sounds unusual.”  
  
“It is; however, it brought the expected results.”  
  
“I imagine that the fact that he enjoys your company helped him to comply with his father’s expectations.”  
  
“Actually, it was the other way around: we did find each other because we had less interest in—that is to say, we found we had similar interests that set us apart from other young men of an age with us.”  
  
**The Wilson’s estate, one week later**  
  
Elizabeth had been worried about the hunting party, but her fears were soon laid to rest. Yes, the ladies made the most of the time the men were out hunting to interrogate her, but they were, on the whole, kindly and ready to accept a newcomer in their circles. Oh, a couple of young ladies, and a mother or two, had looked at her with a pinched look, and Elizabeth could understand their disappointment—men as good as Mr Darcy did not grow on trees, after all. Even those were, if not pleasant, perfectly civil towards her, and Elizabeth, in addition to truly enjoying her stay, thought that she might have formed some friendships.  
  
Miss Wilson was one of the ladies whom Elizabeth had befriended. When they had been introduced, the girl had looked at the new Mrs Darcy with a wistful look but had rallied soon enough. It all began with polite enquiries regarding Elizabeth’s background; on discovering that she had not attended a private seminary, nor had a governess, and had barely any experience in London, Miss Wilson had declared it to be a shame and appointed herself as Mrs Darcy’s guide in these new waters. Since they were two days from London, she settled for sharing her knowledge of the best way to enjoy the city, and expressed the hope that Elizabeth would agree to an occasional outing with her when they would both be in London for the season. In some ways, Miss Wilson reminded her of Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley when the chose to be agreeable, and suddenly the Ton did not seem so daunting anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

**Early December, London**  
  
The Darcys had stayed in Sussex longer than they had first planned, for, on seeing that the new Mrs Darcy was an agreeable lady who got along with their daughter, the Wilsons had extended an invitation for the young couple to stay some weeks. Several guests had also been staying, and others who had not come for the hunt arrived; Elizabeth was happy for the opportunity to be acquainted with people from her new circles and build some friendships away from the pressure of London’s drawing-rooms.  
  
At last it was time for them to leave; they were to spend some time in London with Georgiana. Mrs Annesley had fallen ill and could not host Miss Darcy any longer; she would remove to Bath once the girl was back with her brother. The Darcys had been back in their London house for one week when Elizabeth received a letter from her mother. The address was written with less care than usual, and as Mrs Bennet was very proud of her even hand, this worried Elizabeth, who hastened to open the cover.  
  
_My dear Mrs Darcy,  
  
How well you looked when we last saw you! I am sure I never saw anyone as pretty as you, except perhaps for Jane. She is why I must write to you, as she is in a bit of a predicament presently, and I hoped your husband could do something or other about it.  
You are not without knowing that Robert Robertson, second son of the Earl of Whatsitsname, had taken the lease of Netherfield after Mr Bingley did not renew it. He came ostensibly to hunt game, but was amiable enough to participate to our dinners and dances, and he was very much taken with our Jane. I did not want her to make the same mistake as she did with Mr Bingley, and told him to encourage him—you remember my advice on the subject._  
  
“Oh, Mama,” said Elizabeth, shaking her head.  
  
_She told me she put it in practice and left Mr Robertson in no doubt of her feelings, but he did not propose and it does not appear he is ready to do so—I saw him flirting with Lydia just yesterday, and she thought it a good joke to try to steal her sister’s beau! That will not do!_  
  
The next lines were written with a more agitated hand.  
  
_Lizzy, I just talked to Jane. You must come to Longbourn, Mr Darcy must make that man marry Jane, or we are ruined! Your father just laughs if off and I dare not tell him everything, for then he will be killed in a duel, and what will become of us?_  
  
Elizabeth frowned at the implication that her own husband was expendable, though on a strictly material viewpoint, she supposed it may be seen thus.  
  
_Charlotte Collins will not wait long before she comes to take my place! Please, come at once with your husband. I gave orders to make your room ready. Make haste!  
Yours, etc._  
  
Elizabeth hoped that her mother was exaggerating, as was often her wont, but a niggling doubt—as well as the memory of her previous advice—held her back from dismissing that letter outright. As soon as her husband came home, she showed it to him. He read it and swore under his breath.  
  
“Mr Darcy?”  
  
“I am sorry, Elizabeth. Robert Robertson is not someone I would willingly associate with.”  
  
“Do you believe we should go?”  
  
“It all depends on what your mother’s advice was. A couple of stolen kisses may not be too dire, but—”  
  
On seeing Elizabeth’s face falling, he stopped. “Elizabeth? What exactly did your mother tell you?”  
  
“She told me she had learned from Mr Bingley’s desertion that since we had no connections and no dowry to speak of, we were to leave our callers in no doubt of our intentions, even if it led us to resort to impropriety.” Her colour was high, and she was looking straight at the wall behind him.  
  
“Did you use her tactics?”  
  
“Of course not! You should know that!”  
  
“There, there—you need not be angry. What exactly do you fear?”  
  
“I—oh, I know I was blind about her, yet it is dreadful to think that my sister’s sense of decency and virtue would be so low that she could act in such a way!” Elizabeth drew a breath. “I fear my mother fears that Jane is pregnant.”  
  
“Surely, Robertson would not have dared seducing her under your father’s nose? He has no principles, but he must have some sense of self-preservation!”  
  
Elizabeth sighed. “You have met my father. Does he strike you as someone who would fight for his daughters’ honour? He sent Lydia to Brighton, and I still consider it a miracle that Lydia did not create a scandal while there. I am confident that we have my _mother_ to thank for that—she told Lydia that she should endeavour to marry someone rich, or titled, or both, and those were not found in the army.”  
  
“Even so, Robertson would know I am her brother,” Darcy insisted.  
  
“Would he? I got the impression that my mother ceased crowing about my good fortune when it became clear we should not take Jane with us this autumn.”  
  
“Why do you care so much about Jane’s predicament? I thought you had all but written her off.”  
  
“I have, but I love her nonetheless.” Elizabeth paused a moment, then shook her head. “Besides, it is not only her who will suffer if my mother’s predictions are correct. I may not like my younger sisters very much, but _they_ never tried to deceive me, and they do not deserve being disgraced because of Jane’s foolishness.”  
  
“You will not be at peace until we see for ourselves what the situation is, will you?”  
  
Elizabeth, looking miserable, shook her head again.  
  
“Then we shall go.”  
  
“Thank you!”  
  
She stepped forward, hesitated, and, rising on her toes, kissed him before leaving the room.  
  
**The following day, Longbourn**  
  
They had only taken the time to pack before leaving. Miss Darcy had objected to leaving town, and was staying with the Hursts. She was not quite happy to stay under the same roof as Caroline Bingley, but the access to her masters made it worth it. Surprisingly, Miss Bingley’s feelings towards Mrs Darcy warmed a little when she realised that the lady bore her no ill-will for having coveted the position that was now hers and had no inclination to drop the acquaintance, which would have complicated the Bingley’s social life.  
  
The Darcys had travelled easily and had been received with transports of relief by Mrs Bennet. Darcy, now ensconsed in the guest suite, waited for his wife while she spoke to her sister. When Elizabeth entered the room at last, her somber attitude did not bode well. Darcy gestured for her to sit near to him on the bed, and she complied. After a time, she spoke.  
  
“It is as I feared: Jane thinks she is with child.”  
  
Darcy drew a breath, but said nothing.  
  
“You came here thinking I saw the situation worse than it awtually was, did you not?”  
  
“I did,” he admitted. “I believed we had to come because you needed more reassurance than letters could bring you. I cannot reconcile your sister’s behaviour with what I know of her. She has only ever been the picture of property until now.”  
  
“I asked her that very question, Darcy. It appeared that, since following Mrs Gardiner’s advice did not bring her any proposal, and as she was growing older, she had decided to listen to Mama instead. She now feels very foolish for having done so.”  
  
A minute was spent in silence, before Elizabeth spoke again.  
  
“What are we to do?”  
  
“You are to stay here, while I pay Robertson a call. All will be well.” He punctuated his answer with a kiss on her brow while she nestled against him.  
  
“What is your plan?”  
  
“If, as you believe, the man has no idea that you married me—”  
  
“Jane tells me it is the case.”  
  
“Then I do not think it will be very difficult to persuade him to marry her.”  
  
Elizabeth sighed.  
  
“Do you think she could be happy, married to such a man?”  
  
“Given what I overheard her saying your mother last year, she would have expected a similar situation with Bingley.”  
  
“That does not answer my question.”  
  
It was his turn to sigh.  
  
“No, I do not think she will be _happy_. She will, however, be respectable, or have a chance at being respectable. Your younger sisters will also retain their own respectability. This is not what you wished for Miss Bennet, but given the situation, it is the best one can hope for.”  
  
“I do not want my family to be shamed, nor Jane, but … is it very bad of me to think that, should her husband be unfaithful, she would only have what she deserves?”  
  
A hug was all the answer she received.  
  
**Netherfield**  
  
Early the following day—but not so early that Mr Robertson would still be in bed—Darcy called at Netherfield and was quickly welcomed by its current tenant.  
  
“Mr Darcy! I should never have expected you to call on me _here_. Have you lost your way? What brings you to so savage a place?”  
  
“Meryton is only half a day from London.”  
  
“True, true—but so far from a main road that one could imagine being much more isolated. Great game to be found around here, by the way,” he added with a wink which was received by a scowl.  
  
“Still as amusing as you ever were, I see. I heard you had married recently—I pity the poor creature.”  
  
This did nothing to lessen his guest’s frown. Refreshments were brought, and once the door of the study was closed, Robertson enquired again about the reason for Darcy’s presence.  
  
“I am here about my sister.”  
  
“I do not think I ever met Miss Darcy,” was the halting answer. “I think she might be out next year? You would wish for me to marry her?”  
  
“Certainly not! It is not Miss Darcy but Miss Bennet about whom I came to speak.”  
  
“Miss _Bennet_?”  
  
Darcy nodded.  
  
“Of Longbourn?”  
  
Another nod.  
  
“She is your _sister_? How—”  
  
“You have a brain. Use it.”  
  
A handful of seconds passed before puzzlement left room to mortification on Robertson’s face.  
  
“The fifth Bennet sister—the locals said there was an additional sister who had married, but I did not pay much attention …”  
  
“You should have,” answererd Darcy with a steely glare. His host blanched.  
  
“I, huh, I had no idea—”  
  
“My wife is most seriously displeased.”  
  
“I, er, how about I marry Miss Bennet, then?”  
  
“That would be an excellent idea,” said Darcy, tilting his head to the side. “Add to this your word that you will not dally with young ladies anymore, no matter how inconsequential you believe their fathers to be, and we have a deal.”  
  
Robertson took a moment to think. He berated himself for not having paid enough attention to the Bennets’ connections and ending in such a predicament. Yet, the situation could be worse—he could have sets his sights on Miss Lydia! He repressed a shudder. Jane Bennet, at least, was well-mannered and knew how to comport herself in public. Mrs Bennet was a good hostess and would have taught her eldest daughter how to run a house. The eldest Miss Bennet was also sweet-tempered and pliable; perhaps a better-connected or better-dowered bride would not be as acceping of the dalliances he was sure to have in the future—even if he kept them to married women or professionals. Jane Bennet was also Darcy’s sister. It did not appear that the sisters were very close, and the way the Bennets had not boasted of their son-in-law hinted at a breach, but on paper Miss Bennet’s connections would be acceptable. Resigning himself to the fate of marrying her was not as difficult as he thought it would have been.  
  
“I shall give you my word, if you indulge my curiosity. How come that Mr Bennet has not come with you?”  
  
“You have him figured out,” said Darcy with a shrug. “He does not care for his daughters. My wife was supposedly his favourite, yet he has not written her a line since we wed. Mrs Bennet thought it unlikely he would exert himself on behalf of her elder daughter and wrote to Elizabeth instead. She may not like her sister much, but she would not let her, or her other sisters, suffer.”  
  
Jane married Mr Robertson as soon as the banns had been called.  
  
**The following year, Late May, Pemberley**  
  
The Darcys had retreated to the country after Easter. They had enjoyed the season, and Georgiana anticipated her coming out the following year, but they would not stay longer after Elizabeth told her husband that she suspected she was pregnant. He would have removed them to Pemberley as soon as she had made that announcement, but the concerted efforts of the Darcy women, one desirous to wait until she felt the quickening, the other displeased at the thought of cutting short her studies, made him rethink his plans.  
  
The two ladies were now in one of Pemberley’s numerous drawing-rooms, sewing baby clothes together. Darcy was in his study, dealing with some estate business. Georgiana pondered about the relationship between her two closest relations. They appeared to be happy, yet she was not certain about what had brought the match. Gathering her courage, she asked Elizabeth.  
  
“Forgive my impertinence, Elizabeth, but … why did you marry my brother?”  
  
Elizabeth quickly looked away. Georgiana was about to apologise for having asked such a personal question, when her sister-in-law sighed and spoke at last.  
  
“He loves me.”  
  
Georgiana’s eyebrows rose. Elizabeth saw this and laughed mirthlessly.  
  
“You are wondering whether this is reason enough to marry, or why I did not say that we love each other.” She sighed. “My feelings are a little complicated to read. I am not quite sure I know myself now; I certainly did not when I accepted him. What I do know is that your brother truly loves me, and he may be the only person in the world not to have selfish reasons to do so.” She smiled. “Oh, he would tell you that selfishness is one of his faults, and perhaps he is right, but not when it came to our marriage. It is just … he loved me, and I was grateful for his love, when my own family had been so disappointing.”  
  
They stayed in silence for a time, before Georgiana spoke again.  
  
“Have you regrets?”  
  
“More than I care to count.” On seeing the younger girl’s startled exp ****ression, she added: “I had been blind for so long when it came to my family. I wish my eyes had been opened sooner. However, I could never regret marrying your brother, not when every day that passes show me how good a man he is. I am not sure I do deserve him, but I will do what I can to make him happy.”  
  
“Are _you_ happy?”  
  
This time her smile was genuine and immediate. “I am.”  
  
There was no doubt for Georgiana that Elizabeth was very fond of her brother, and her enquiries about her reasons for marrying him in the first place having been answered, she did not find necessary to enquire further.  
  
“I am glad,” she said, and she went back to her sewing.  
  
Elizabeth, however, found herself distracted. She had not thought about her feelings for her husband since the day they had married, but now that she thought about it, they had changed. She had married him knowing that she could trust him, but she would not have imagined how much she would turn to him for comfort, rely on him, or how much he made her feel safe and loved. She had grown very fond of her husband, and suspected that she had even come to love him. _When did that happen_?  
  
It was too much. She rose and, in a trembling voice, begged Georgiana to excuse her before all but running to her husband’s study. She did not see the small smile that slowly spread on Miss Darcy’s face.  
  
It would be an understatement to say that Darcy was concerned when his wife rushed into his study.  
  
“Elizabeth!” he cried, while she caught her breath. In two steps, he was at her side and took her hands. “What is it? Are you well? Is it the baby?”  
  
Still breathless, she only shook her head and beamed at him. Her smile, however, dimmed under his puzzled glance.  
  
“You will find me very silly,” she said at last, her glance dropping on the carpet.  
  
“Tell me anyway,” he said, taking her in his arms.  
  
“I love you,” she whispered.  
  
She felt him draw his breath and hold her tighter.  
  
And they all lived happily ever after.


	8. Epilogue

**Some years later**

  
Elizabeth’s happiness did not diminish with the years. Her new family and friends made up for the ones she had left behind, and her friendship with Charlotte and Maria still anchored her to her past, for which she was grateful. She saw the former whenever they visited Lady Catherine at Rosings, and the latter more often since she had married a respectable man of business from Derby.  
  
The Roberstons lived in London while the Darcys were happy to spend most of their time in the country, thus the various Bennets and Gardiners plagued Jane rather than Elizabeth with their demands, which suited the latter very well. With time, her relationship with Jane had been somewhat mended, but she could never feel as close to her as she had been before. The same was true of the rest of her family. Apart from the occasional polite greetings when they found themselves at the same event in London, she contented herself with letters to her parents and sisters, which was acceptable to all. One notable exception to this was Lydia, who had appeared on the Darcy’s doorstep one morning during one of their infrequent stays in London.  
  
Her attitude felt strange to Elizabeth, and she soon realised that her sister, whom she believed had always been fearless, was worried. After Mary and Kitty, it had been Lydia’s turn to be entrusted by her parents to the Gardiners, and it turned out that they had decided she was too much to handle and planned to marry her off to some widower twice her age. She had objected to such a plan, complaining to her mother, only to receive a letter about where to find the best fabrics for her wedding clothes. Her father had even exerted himself to write a letter in which he condoned the choice made by her uncle. Having read in the society column that Elizabeth and her husband had attended the theater the evening before, she had decided to escape and managed, with the help of a local shop-girl, to be driven to her sister’s town-house.  
  
No one came to claim her back, and since she behaved properly enough—fearing, no doubt, to be sent back if she overstepped some rules—she ended living with them, keeping company to Georgiana and practicing her newfound manners until that lady married Mr Bingley. She then dedicated herself to her nieces and nephews and eventually met a young cousin of Mr Hurst who, after having retired from the Navy, found himself in want of a wife.  
  
As to Jane, her son was born five months into her marriage and looked remarkably like his father, as did her second son. The other children’s traits were not as distinctive; nonetheless, Jane retained all the claims to reputation which her marriage had given her—and was, contrary to the Darcys’ expectations, completely satisfied with her marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is -- the end. Thank you to everyone who left kudos or a comment on this story. I didn't always answer, but I really appreciated them. <3


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